CEDAR-UIKlJ 


THE  FIRST  BOOK 
OF  BIRDS 

BY   OLIVE    THORNE    MILLER 

WITH  EIGHT  COLORED  AND  TWELVE 

PLAIN  PLATES  AND  TWENTY 

FIGURES  IN  THE 

TEXT 


BOSTON   AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


SO?) 


COPYRIGHT,   1899,  BY  H.  M.  MILLER 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


QU 


PREFACE 

THIS  book  is  intended  to  interest  young  peo- 
ple in  the  ways  and  habits  of  birds,  and  to  stim- 
ulate them  to  further  study.  It  has  grown  out 
of  my  experience  in  talking  to  schools.  From 
the  youngest  kindergarten  scholar  to  boys  and 
girls  of  sixteen  and  eighteen,  I  have  never  failed 
to  find  young  people  intensely  interested  so  long 
as  I  would  tell  them  about  how  the  birds  live. 

Some  of  the  results  of  these  talks  that  have 
come  to  my  knowledge  have  been  astonishing 
and  far-reaching,  such  as  that  of  one  boy  of 
seven  or  eight,  who  persuaded  the  village  boys 
around  his  summer  home  to  give  up  taking  eggs 
and  killing  birds,  and  watch  them  instead,  and 
who  was  dubbed  "  Professor  "  by  his  eager  fol- 
lowers. The  effect  has  always  been  to  make 
children  love  and  respect  the  living  bird. 

It  has  therefore  seemed  to  me  that  what  is 
needed  at  first  is  not  the  science  of  ornithology, 


iv  PREFACE 

—  however  diluted,  —  but  some  account  of  the 
life  and  habits,  to  arouse  sympathy  and  interest 
in  the  living  bird,  neither  as  a  target  nor  as  a 
producer  of  eggs,  but  as  a  fellow-creature  whose 
acquaintance  it  would  be  pleasant  to  make. 

With  this  purpose  in  view  I  have  expanded 
my  "  Children's  Talks  "  into  this  little  book,  to 
be  used  as  an  introduction  to  one  of  the  most 
fascinating  and  delightful  of  studies. 

I  hope  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  I  have 
been  careful  to  have  the  latest  and  the  best 
authorities  for  the  statements  made,  and  I  take 
pleasure  in  presenting  a  list  of  them  :  — 

On  Structure :  Dr.  Elliott  Coues,  of  Washing- 
ton, D.  C. ;  Professor  Headley,  of  Haileybury 
College,  England ;  Mr.  Lucas,  Curator  of  Com- 
parative Anatomy,  of  the  National  Museum. 

On  Moulting:  Mr.  Witmer  Stone,  of  Phila- 
delphia Academy  of  Sciences. 

On  Color :  Professor  Newton,  of  Cambridge 
University,  England. 

On  Food :  Professor  Beal,  of  Biological  Sur- 
vey, United  States  Department  of  Agriculture ; 
Mr.  Forbush,  of  Massachusetts  State  Board  of 
Agriculture  ;  Mr.  Forbes,  Director  Illinois  State 


PREFACE  v 

Laboratory  of  Natural  History ;  Dr.  C.  Hart 
Merriam,  Chief  of  Biological  Survey,  United 
States  Department  of  Agriculture. 

On  Migration  :  Mr.  William  Brewster,  Presi- 
dent American  Ornithologists  Union  ;  Mr.  Frank 
M.  Chapman,  of  American  Museum  of  Natural 
History,  of  New  York. 

On  Sleep :  Rev.  Leander  Keyser ;  Mr.  J. 
Newton  Basket. 

On  Language  :  Mr.  John  Burroughs ;  Profes- 
sor Hameric,  of  Peabody  Conservatory  of  Music 
of  Baltimore ;  Mr.  Leverett  M.  Loomis,  of  Cali- 
fornia Academy  of  Sciences. 

OLIVE  THORNE  MILLER. 


CONTENTS 

CHAP. 

L  WHAT  YOU  WANT  TO  KNOW 1 

II.  WHEN  THEY  COME  IN  THE  SPRING       .       •        •         3 


THE  NESTLING 

HI.  THE  BIRD'S  HOME 9 

IV.  THE  BABY  BIRD 13 

V.    HOW   HE    IS  FED 17 

VI.  His  FIRST  SUIT 21 

VII.    HOW   HE    CHANGES   HIS    CLOTHES           .           .           .           .  J35 

VIII.   His  FIRST  FLIGHT 29 

IX.  His  EDUCATION 33 

X.  SOME  OF  HIS  LESSONS 37 

THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

JUT.  THE  BIRD'S  LANGUAGE 43 

XII.  WHAT  HE  EATS        . 48 

XIII.  MORE  ABOUT  HIS  FOOD 52 

XIV.  WHERE  HE  SLEEPS 57 

XV.   His  TRAVELS 61 

XVI.   His  WINTER  HOME        .     ^ 66 

XVII.  His  FAMILY  AND  FRIENDS 70 

XVIII.   His  KINDNESS  TO  OTHERS 74 

XIX.   His  AFFECTIONS 78 

XX.  His  INTELLIGENCE 83 

HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

XXI.  His  BODY 91 

XXII.  His  BEAK  AND  TONGUE 95 

XXIII.  His  EYES  AND  EARS 100 

XXIV.  His  FEET  AND  LEGS              105 

,XXV.  His  WINGS  AND  TAJ* 109 


viii  CONTEXTS 

XXVI.  His  DRESS 114 

XXVTL  DIFFERENT  COLORED  Suns  ...  .118 


HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 
XXVUL  How  HE  WORKS  FOR  us    ......  125 

XXIX.    HOW   TO  ATTRACT   HIM  ABOUT   OUR   HOMES  .         131 

XXX.  How  TO  STUDY  HIM  .......  136 


147 


LIST  OF  FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGB 

CEDAR-BLRD  (colored)    ......  Frontispiece 

YELLOW-THROATED    VlREO    AND   NEST 4 

AMERICAN  GOLDFINCH  (colored) 14 

YOUNG  WOOD  THRUSH 22 

BLACK  AND  WHITE  WARBLER  (MALE  AND  FEMALE)          .  26 

BALTIMORE  ORIOLE  AND  NEST  (colored)         ....  34 

FLICKER 38 

BLUEBIRD  (colored) 44 

BLCE  JAY 54 

iNDIGOrBIRD 62 

SCARLET  TANAGER  (colored) 74 

HOUSE  WREN 80 

CHEWINK,  OR  TOWHEE 92 

REDSTARTS  (FEMALE  ON  NEST)  (colored)         ....  100 

LESSER  YELLOWLEGS 106 

CATBIRD 114 

AMERICAN  ROBIN  (colored) 120 

BLACK-CAPPED  CHICKADEES 126 

CARDINAL 132 

MEADOWLARK  (colored) »  140 


THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 


WHAT    YOU    WANT    TO    KNOW 

BIRDS  seem  to  be  the  happiest  creatures  on 
earth,  yet  they  have  none  of  what  we  call  the 
comforts  of  life. 

They  have  no  houses  to  live  in,  no  beds  to 
sleep  on,  no  breakfast  and  dinner  provided  for 
them. 

This  book  is  to  tell  something  about  them; 
where  they  live  and  what  they  eat,  where  they 
sleep,  how  they  get  their  beautiful  dress,  and 
many  other  things.  But  no  one  can  tell  all 
about  their  lives  and  habits,  for  no  one  knows 
all  their  ways. 

Men  who  study  dead  birds  can  tell  how  they 
are  made,  how  their  bones  are  put  together,  and 
how  many  feathers  there  are  in  the  wings  and  tail. 
Of  course  it  is  well  to  know  these  things.  But 


2  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

to  see  how  birds  live  is  much  more  interesting 
than  to  look  at  dead  ones. 

It  is  pleasant  to  see  how  mother  birds  build 
their  nests,  and  how  they  take  care  of  their 
nestlings.  It  is  charming  to  see  the  young  ones 
when  they  begin  to  fly,  and  to  know  how  they 
are  taught  to  find  their  food,  and  to  keep  out 
of  danger,  and  to  sing,  and  everything  young 
birds  need  to  know. 

Then  when  they  are  grown  up,  it  is  interest 
ing  to  find  out  where  they  go  in  winter,  and 
why  they  do  not  stay  with  us  all  the  year  round. 

One  who  goes  into  the  field  to  watch  and 
study  their  ways  will  be  surprised  to  find  how 
much  like  people  they  act.  And  after  studying 
living  birds,  he  will  never  want  to  kill  them. 
It  will  seem  to  him  almost  like  murder. 


WHEN    THEY    COME    IN    THE    SPRING 

IN  the  long,  cold  winter  of  the  New  England 
and  Middle  States,  not  many  birds  are  usually 
seen.  In  the  cities  there  is  always  the  English 
sparrow,  and  in  the  country,  now  and  then  a 
chickadee,  or  a  woodpecker,  or  a  small  flock  of 
goldfinches. 

But  very  early  in  the  spring,  long  before  grass 
is  green,  even  while  snow  is  on  the  ground,  the 
birds  begin  to  come. 

Some  morning  a  robin  will  appear,  standing 
up  very  straight  on  a  fence  or  tree,  showing  his 
bright  red  breast  and  black  cap,  flirting  his  tail, 
and  looking  as  if  he  were  glad  to  be  back  in  his 
old  home. 

Then  perhaps  the  same  day  will  come  the 
hoarse  chack  of  a  blackbird,  and  two  or  three  will 
fly  over  and  alight  in  a  big  bare  tree,  looking,  it 
may  be,  for  a  good  place  to  build  a  bird  city. 

Soon  will  be  heard  the  sweet  little  song  of  the 
song  sparrow  or  the  bluebird,  and  then  we  shall 


4  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

know  that  summer  is  coming,  for  these  are  the 
first  birds  of  spring. 

Day  after  day,  as  the  snow  melts  away  and 
the  sunshine  grows  hotter,  more  birds  will  come. 
One  day  a  catbird  or  two,  another  day  an  oriole 
in  black  and  gold,  and  another  day  a  pert  little 
wren.  So  it  will  go  on,  till  by  the  time  June 
comes  in,  all  our  birds  will  be  back  with  us,  very 
busy,  hopping  around  in  our  bushes  and  trees, 
making  their  nests  all  about,  and  singing  the 
whole  day  long. 

Almost  the  first  thing  every  bird  thinks  of, 
when  he  comes  to  us,  is  making  the  nest.  For 
summer  is  the  only  time  in  his  life  that  a  bird 
has  a  home. 

He  does  not  need  a  house  to  live  in.  He 
cares  nothing  for  a  roof  to  cover  him,  because 
when  the  sun  is  hot,  he  has  the  broad  green 
leaves  on  the  trees  to  shade  him.  And  when  it 
rains  his  neat  feather  coat  is  like  a  waterproof 
that  lets  the  drops  run  off,  leaving  him  warm 
and  dry  under  it. 

He  does  not  need  a  dining-room,  because  he 
eats  wherever  he  finds  his  food,  and  he  wants  no 
kitchen,  because  he  prefers  his  food  raw. 

He  has  no  use  for  a  bedroom,  because  he  can 
sleep  on  any  twig ;  the  whole  world  is  his  bed- 
room. 


YELLOW-THROATED  VIREO  AND  NEST 


WHEN  THEY  COME  IN  THE  SPRING  5 

He  cares  nothing  for  closets  and  bureaus, 
because  he  has  only  one  suit  of  clothes  at  a 
time,  and  he  washes  and  dries  that  without  tak- 
ing it  off. 

He  wants  no  fire  to  keep  him  warm,  for  when 
it  is  too  cold  he  spreads  his  wings  and  flies  to  a 
warmer  place.  A  bird  has  really  no  need  of 
a  house,  —  excepting  when  he  is  a  baby,  be- 
fore his  eyes  are  open,  or  his  feathers  have 
come,  or  his  wings  have  grown.  While  he  is 
blind,  naked,  and  hungry,  he  must  have  a  warm, 
snug  cradle. 

So  when  the  bird  fathers  and  mothers  come 
in  the  spring  the  first  thing  they  do  is  to  find 
good  places  and  build  nice  cradles,  for  they  are 
very  fond  of  their  little  ones.  They  spend  the 
spring  and  summer  in  working  for  them,  keep- 
ing them  warm,  feeding  them  till  they  are 
grown  up,  and  then  teaching  them  to  fly  and  to 
take  care  of  themselves,  so  that  when  summer  is 
gone  they  will  be  ready  to  go  with  the  other 
birds  to  their  winter  home. 


THE  NESTLING 


m 


EACH  bird  mother  has  her  own  way  of  mak- 
ing the  nest,  but  there  is  one  thing  almost  all  of 
them  try  to  do,  and  that  is  to  hide  it. 

They  cannot  put  their  little  homes  out  in 
plain  sight,  as  we  do  our  houses,  because  so 
many  creatures  want  to  rob  them.  Squirrels 
and  snakes  and  rats,  and  some  big  birds,  and 
cats  and  many  others,  like  to  eat  eggs  and  young 
birds. 

So  most  birds  try,  first  of  all,  to  find  good 
hiding-places.  Some  tiny  warblers  go  to  the 
tops  of  the  tallest  trees,  and  hide  the  nest  among 
the  leaves.  Orioles  hang  the  swinging  cradle  at 
the  end  of  a  branch,  where  cats  and  snakes  and 
naughty  boys  cannot  come.  Song  sparrows 
tuck  the  little  home  in  a  tuft  of  weeds,  on  the 
ground,  and  bobolinks  hide  it  in  the  deep  grass. 

After  a  safe  place  is  found,  they  have  to  get 
something  to  build  of.  They  hunt  all  about 
and  gather  small  twigs,  or  grass  stems,  or  fine 


10  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

rootlets,  and  pull  narrow  strips  of  bark  off  the 
grapevines  and  the  birch-trees,  or  they  pick  up 
strings  and  horsehairs,  and  many  other  things. 
Robins  and  swallows  use  mud. 

As  they  go  on  building,  the  mother  bird  gets 
inside  and  turns  around  and  around  to  make  it 
fit  her  form,  and  be  smooth  and  comfortable  for 
her  to  sit  in. 

When  a  nest  is  made,  it  must  be  lined.  Then 
some  birds  go  to  the  chicken  yard,  and  pick  up 
feathers,  and  others  find  horsehairs.  Some  of 
them  pull  off  the  soft  down  that  grows  on 
plants,  or  get  bits  of  wool  from  the  sheep  pas- 
ture, or  old  leaves  from  the  woods,  and  make  it 
soft  and  warm  inside. 

Some  bird  homes  are  only  platforms,  where 
it  seems  as  if  the  eggs  must  roll  off,  and  others 
are  deep  burrows,  or  holes  in  the  ground,  where 
no  one  can  get  in.  Some  are  dainty  baskets 
hung  between  two  twigs,  and  others  are  tiny 
cups  of  felt  with  lichens  outside. 

Each  species  of  bird  builds  in  its  own  way. 
There  are  as  many  different  ways  to  make  nests 
as  there  are  kinds  of  birds  to  make  them. 

Then  after  all  the  trouble  birds  have  taken  to 
build  a  nest,  they  seldom  use  it  a  second  time. 
If  a  pair  have  two  broods  in  a  season,  they 
almost  always  build  a  new  one  for  each  family. 


THE  BIRD'S   HOME  11 

A  few  birds,  such  as  eagles,  owls,  and  some- 
times orioles,  and  others,  repair  the  home  and 
use  it  again,  and  woodpeckers  sometimes  nest  in 
the  old  holes.  But  generally,  after  the  young 
birds  have  flown,  we  may  be  sure  the  nest  will 
not  be  wanted  again. 

When  the  nest  is  finished,  the  eggs  are  laid 
in  it,  one  by  one.  We  aU  know  how  pretty 
birds'  eggs  are.  Some  are  snowy  white,  some 
are  delicate  pink,  and  some  blue.  Many  have 
tiny  dots  and  specks  on  them,  and  a  few  are 
covered  with  queer -looking  streaks  and  lines. 
But  pretty  as  they  are,  I  think  no  one  would  be 
so  cruel  as  to  take  them  away  from  the  poor 
little  mother,  if  he  remembered  that  her  young 
ones  are  inside  them,  and  that  she  loves  them  as 
his  own  mother  loves  him. 

I  have  heard  people  say  that  birds  do  not 
care  for  their  eggs.  Let  me  tell  you  what  a 
little  chickadee  mother  did  when  a  man  tried  to 
steal  the  eggs  out  of  her  nest. 

The  nest  was  in  a  hole  in  an  old  stump,  and 
the  man  could  not  get  his  hand  in,  so  he  had  to 
take  them  out  one  at  a  time  with  a  little  scoop. 

At  first  the  mother  flew  at  him  and  tried  to 
drive  him  away.  Then  chickadees  and  other 
birds  who  lived  near  came  to  help  her.  All 
flew  about  his  face  with  cries,  so  that  he  had  to 


12  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

use  one  hand  to  keep  them  away  from  his  eyes. 
But  still  he  went  on  taking  out  the  eggs. 

At  last  the  little  mother  was  so  wild  with 
grief  that  she  dashed  into  the  hole  and  sat  there 
in  the  doorway,  right  before  his  face.  He  could 
not  get  another  egg  without  hurting  her,  and  he 
was  ashamed  to  do  that. 

This  was  as  brave  in  the  tiny  creature  as  it 
would  be  for  a  human  mother  to  throw  herself 
before  a  fierce,  hungry  tiger.  Do  you  think 
she  did  not  care  for  her  eggs  ? 


IV 

THE   BABY   BIRD 

A  BABY  bird,  as  you  know,  always  comes  out 
of  an  egg.  And  beautiful  as  these  eggs  are, 
they  are  most  interesting  when  you  think  that 
each  one  holds  a  tiny  bird. 

Eggs  are  not  all  alike,  of  course.  One  the 
size  of  a  bean  is  large  enough  to  hold  a  hum- 
mingbird baby,  till  it  is  old  enough  to  come 
out.  But  the  young  ostrich  needs  a  shell  nearly 
as  big  as  your  head.  So  there  are  all  sizes  of 
eggs  to  fit  the  different  sizes  of  birds. 

If  you  should  break  a  fresh  egg  you  would 
not  see  a  bird,  for  it  would  not  be  formed  at 
that  time.  After  the  egg  is  laid  in  its  soft  bed, 
it  has  to  be  kept  warm  for  many  days,  and  that 
is  why  the  mother  bird  sits  on  her  nest  so 
quietly.  She  is  keeping  the  eggs  warm,  so  that 
the  little  ones  will  form  and  grow,  till  they  are 
as  big  as  the  shells  can  hold. 

While  the  mother  is  sitting  her  mate  does  all 
be  can  to  help,  though  each  species  has  its  own 


14  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

way.  The  blue  jay  brings  food  to  his  mate,  so 
that  she  need  not  leave  the  nest  at  all,  and  many 
others  do  so.  But  the  kingbird  father  simply 
watches  the  nest  to  protect  it  while  the  mother 
goes  for  food.  A  redstart  gets  into  the. nest 
himself,  to  keep  the  eggs  warm  while  his  mate  is 
gone,  and  a  goldfinch  coaxes  his  mate  to  go  off 
with  him  for  a  lunch,  leaving  nest  and  eggs  to 
take  care  of  themselves. 

Another  thing  the  father  birds  do  is  to  sing. 
This  is  the  time  when  we  hear  so  much  bird 
song.  The  singers  have  little  to  do  but  to  wait, 
and  so  they  please  themselves,  and  their  mates, 
and  us  too,  by  singing  a  great  deal. 

When  the  little  birds  begin  to  be  cramped, 
and  find  their  cradle  too  tight,  they  peck  at  the 
shell  with  a  sort  of  tooth  that  grows  on  the  end 
of  the  beak,  and  is  called  the  "  egg  tooth." 
This  soon  breaks  the  shell,  and  they  come  out. 
Then  the  mother  or  father  carefully  picks  up 
the  pieces  of  shell,  carries  them  off,  and  throws 
them  away,  leaving  only  the  little  ones  in  the 
nest.  Perhaps  you  have  found  these  broken 
shells  on  the  ground  sometimes,  and  could  not 
guess  how  they  came  there.  When  the  bird- 
lings  break  out  of  their  prison  they  do  not  all 
look  the  same.  Ducks  and  geese  and  chickens 
and  quails,  and  other  birds  who  live  on  the 


AMERICAN   GOLDFINCH 


THE  BABY  BIRD  15 

ground,  as  well  as  hawks  and  owls,  are  dressed 
in  pretty  suits  of  down.  They  have  their  eyes 
open,  and  the  ground  birds  are  ready  to  run 
about  at  once. 

A  man  who  studied  birds,  once  saw  a  young 
duck  get  its  first  suit  of  down.  He  picked  up 
the  egg  just  as  the  little  bird  inside  was  trying 
to  get  out.  In  a  few  minutes  the  shell  fell 
apart,  and  out  stepped  the  duckling  on  his  hand. 
It  seemed  to  be  covered  with  coarse  black  hairs, 
which  in  a  moment  began  to  burst  open,  one  by 
one,  and  out  of  each  came  a  soft  fluff  of  down. 
So  in  a  few  minutes,  while  the  man  stood  there 
and  held  him,  the  little  duck  was  all  covered 
with  his  pretty  dress. 

But  most  birds  hatched  in  nests  in  trees  and 
bushes,  like  robins  and  bluebirds,  are  very  dif- 
ferent. When  they  come  out  of  their  shells 
they  are  naked,  have  their  eyes  shut,  and  look 
as  if  they  were  nearly  all  mouth.  A  young 
hummingbird  looks  about  as  big  as  a  honey 
bee,  and  a  robin  baby  not  much  bigger  than  the 
eggshell  he  came  out  of. 

They  lie  flat  down  in  the  nest,  seeming  to  be 
asleep  most  of  the  time.  All  they  want  is  to  be 
warm  and  to  be  fed. 

To  keep  them  warm,  the  mother  sits  on  them 
a  great  part  of  the  time,  and  for  the  first  few 


16  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

days  of  their  lives,  the  father  often  brings  most 
of  the  food.  Sometimes  he  gives  it  to  the 
mother,  and  she  feeds  the  little  ones.  But 
sometiiMtfjfce  gets  off  the  nest,  and  flies  away 
to  T^jHfd  get  something  to  eat  for  herself, 
wlute  he  feeds  the  nestlings, 
^rnere  is  one  bird  father  who  —  it  is  thought 
—  never  comes  to  the  nest,  either  to  watch  the 
eggs  or  to  help  feed  the  nestlings.  That  is  our 
hummingbird,  the  ruby  throat. 

We  do  not  know  the  reason  for  this,  and  it 
is  not  fair  to  say  hard  things  about  him  until 
we  do.  It  may  be  that  he  thinks  his  shining 
ruby  would  show  the  hiding-place  of  the  nest, 
or  it  may  be  that  the  little  mother  is  not  willing 
to  have  any  help.  I  think  this  last  is  the  real 
reason,  for  she  has  a  great  deal  of  spirit,  and 
always  drives  away  others  from  her  feeding- 
places. 

Young  birds  grow  very  fast,  and  soon  feathers 
begin  to  come  out  all  over  them.  They  are  not 
very  pretty  at  this  time. 


HOW   HE    IS   FED 

SOON  after  the  young  bird  comes  out  of  the 
egg,  he  begins  to  be  hungry.  All  day  long, 
whenever  the  father  or  mother  comes  near,  he 
opens  his  great  mouth  as  wide  as  he  can,  to  have 
it  filled,  and  the  moment  he  gets  his  voice  he 
cries  for  food. 

Then  the  old  birds  have  to  work  hard.  Three 
or  four  hungry  nestlings  can  keep  both  father 
and  mother  busy  from  morning  till  night,  hunting 
for  caterpillars  and  beetles  and  grubs  and  other 
things  to  feed  them.  It  seems  as  if  the  little 
fellows  never  could  get  enough  to  eat.  Each 
swallow  baby  wants  seven  or  eight  hundred  small 
flies  every  day,  and  a  baby  robin  needs  more 
earthworms  in  a  day  than  you  can  hold  in  your 
hand  at  once. 

At  this  time  you  will  see  robins  hunting  over 
the  lawn,  and  carrying  great  beakfuls  of  worms 
up  to  the  nest.  Bluebirds  you  will  find  looking 
in  the  grass,  and  sparrows  hopping  about  on  the 


18  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

ground,  all  seeking  soft  worms  and  grubs  and 
insects  for  the  nestlings ;  and  they  are  so  busy 
they  do  not  get  much  time  for  singing. 

At  this  time  the  orioles  go  all  over  the  or- 
chard trees  looking  for  tiny  worms,  and  little 
warblers  seek  them  under  every  leaf. 

Woodpeckers  find  the  insects  hidden  behind 
the  bark  of  trees,  by  cutting  holes  through  it. 
Chickadees  and  nuthatches  pick  the  tiniest  insect 
eggs  out  of  the  crevices,  and  flickers  hunt  every- 
where for  ants. 

As  soon  as  one  of  the  old  birds  has  his  mouth 
full,  he  flies  to  the  nest  to  feed  the  young. 

But  not  all  birds  feed  in  the  same  way.  A 
robin  just  drops  a  big  earthworm,  or  a  part  of 
one,  into  the  gaping  baby  mouth.  Many  other 
birds  do  so  also.  Sometimes,  when  an  insect  is 
too  big  or  too  hard,  they  beat  it  till  it  is  soft, 
or  break  it  up,  before  giving  it  to  a  little  one. 

But  hummingbird  mothers  and  flicker  mo- 
thers have  a  different  way.  When  they  collect 
the  food  they  swallow  it,  as  if  they  wanted  it  for 
themselves.  Then  they  go  to  the  nest,  and  jerk 
it  up  again  in  mouthfuls,  and  feed  the  nestlings. 
This  is  called  feeding  by  "  regurgitation,"  or 
"  throwing  up." 

The  way  they  give  the  food  is  very  curious. 
They  push  their  long  beaks  into  the  nestling's 


HOW  HE  IS  FED  19 

throat,  and  poke  the  food  far  down ;  so  the 
young  one  does  not  even  have  the  trouble  of 
swallowing. 

This  looks  as  if  it  must  hurt,  but  the  nestling 
seems  to  like  it,  and  is  always  ready  for  more. 
The  pigeon  mother  lets  the  young  one  poke  his 
beak  down  her  throat,  and  get  the  food  for 
himself. 

If  the  food  is  hard,  like  corn,  birds  who  feed 
in  this  way  let  it  stay  in  the  crop  till  it  is  soft 
and  better  fitted  for  tender  throats,  before  they 
give  it  out. 

It  is  comical  to  see  a  nest  full  of  little  birds 
when  the  father  or  mother  comes  with  food. 
All  stretch  up  and  open  their  big  mouths  as 
wide  as  they  can,  and  if  they  are  old  enough, 
they  cry  as  if  they  were  starving. 

Some  birds  bring  food  enough  for  all  in  the 
nest,  every  time  they  come.  A  cedar-bird,  feed- 
ing wild  cherries,  brought  five  of  them  every 
time,  one  for  each  of  the  five  nestlings.  One 
cherry  was  held  in  his  mouth,  but  the  other 
four  were  down  his  throat,  and  had  to  be  jerked 
up  one  by  one. 

Other  birds  bring  only  one  mouthful  at  a 
time,  and  when  there  ar^nve  or  six  in  the 
nest,  they  have  to  make  as  many  journeys  before 
all  are  fed. 


20  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

Some  persons  who  have  studied  birds  think 
that  each  nestling  is  fed  in  its  turn ;  but  they 
look  so  much  alike,  and  are  so  close  together, 
that  it  is  hard  to  tell,  and  I  am  not  sure  that 
it  is  so. 

I  will  tell  you  a  story  I  have  heard  about 
feeding  little  birds.  A  child  picked  up  a  young 
goldfinch  who  had  fallen  out  of  the  nest.  He 
took  him  home  and  put  him  into  the  canary's 
cage,  which  was  hanging  on  the  front  porch. 

Soon  the  family  heaqfca  great  noise  among 
the  birds,  and  went  oJfco  see  what  was  the 
matter.  The  baby  goldBich  had  hopped  on  to 
a  perch  in  the  cage,  and^eemed  to  be  afraid  to 
come  down,  though  the^  old1  birds  had  brought 
food  for  him,  and  were  calling  him  to  take  it. 

The  canary  looked  on  a  while,  and  then  all  at 
once  he  flew  to  the  wir^s  and  took  the  food  from 
the  birds  outside;  then  he  went  back  to  the 
perch  beside  the  little  one  and  gave  it  to  him. 
This  he  did  many  times. 

The  next  day  another  young  goldfinch  was 
picked  up  and  put  in  the  cage,  and  the  canary 
took  food  from  the  parents  and  fed  both. 

After  a  few  days  the  old  birds  came  with  a 
third  little  one,  and  as  all  were  now  old  enough 
to  fly,  the  cage  door  was  opened,  and  they  all 
flew  away. 


VI 

HIS   FIRST    SUIT 

SOME  birds  that  live  on  the  ground  —  as  I 
told  you  —  have  dresses  of  down  to  begin  with. 
These  little  fellows  have  no  warm  nest  to  stay 
in,  but  run  around  almost  as  soon  as  they  come 
out  of  the  egg.  Young  ducks  and  geese  wear 
this  baby  suit  for  weeks,  before  they  begin  to  put 
on  their  feather  coats. 

Young  birds  that  spend  most  of  their  time  in 
the  water,  like  grebes,  and  others  that  live  in  a 
cold  country,  have  the  down  very  thick  and  fine, 
like  heavy  underclothes,  to  keep  them  dry  and 
warm. 

Birds  whose  home  is  underground,  like  the 
kingfisher,  or  in  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  like  the 
woodpecker,  have  hardly  any  down  at  all.  They 
need  no  baby  clothes  in  their  warm  cradles. 

Robins  and  most  other  song  birds  have  only 
a  little  down  on  them,  and  very  soon  the  feathers 
begin  to  grow. 

When  the  tiny  quills  push  themselves  up,  they 


22  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

look  like  little  white  pins  sticking  out  all  over. 
Each  bit  of  down  grows  out  of  a  little  raised 
place  on  the  skin  that  looks  like  a  pimple,  and 
the  feather  comes  out  of  the  same. 

As  the  feather  grows,  the  bit  of  down  clings 
to  it  till  it  is  broken  off.  Sometimes  it  holds 
on  till  the  feather  is  well  out.  We  can  often 
see  down  sticking  to  a  young  bird's  feathers. 

The  little  feathers  grow  very  fast,  and  before 
he  is  ready  to  fly  a  young  bird  is  well  covered. 
Birds  hatched  with  their  eyes  open,  and  already 
dressed,  who  have  to  run  and  fly  very  soon,  get 
their  wing  feathers  early;  but  birds  who  live 
many  days  in  the  nest,  like  robins  and  bluebirds, 
do  not  get  theirs  till  they  are  nearly  grown. 

The  tail  feathers  are  the  last  to  come  to  full 
length,  and  you  will  notice  that  most  birds  just 
out  of  the  nest  have  very  dumpy  tails. 

A  bird's  first  suit  of  feathers  is  called  his  nest- 
ling plumage.  In  some  families  it  is  just  like 
the  dress  of  the  grown-up  birds,  but  in  others  it 
is  not  at  all  like  that.  It  is  usually  worn  only 
a  few  weeks,  for  the  young  one  outgrows  it, 
and  needs  a  new  and  bigger  one  before  winter. 

When  a  bird  is  fully  dressed,  his  body  is  en- 
tirely covered,  and  it  looks  as  if  the  feathers 
grew  close  to  each  other  all  over  him.  But  it  is 
not  so.  The  feathers  grow  in  patterns,  called 


YOUNG  W®OD   THRUSH 


HIS  FIRST   SUIT  23 

*  feather  tracts,"  with  spaces  of  bare  skin  be- 
tween them.  These  bare  places  do  not  show, 
because  the  feathers  lap  over  each  other  and 
cover  them. 

The  pattern  of  the  feather  tracts  is  not  the 
same  in  all  birds.  A  few  birds  of  the  Ostrich 
family  have  feathers  all  over  .the  body. 

There  is  another  curious  thing  about  the  nest- 
ling plumage.  You  would  expect  a  young  bird 
to  look  like  his  father  or  mother ;  and  some  of 
them  do.  Many  nestlings  are  dressed  exactly 
like  their  mothers ;  and  not  until  they  are  a 
year  old  do  the  young  males  get  a  coat  like  their 
father's.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  do  not  have 
their  grown-up  suits  for  two  or  three  years. 

Then,  again,  many  young  birds  have  dresses 
different  from  both  parents.  Young  robins  have 
speckled  breasts,  and  spots  on  the  shoulders, 
which  the  old  birds  have  not. 

When  the  father  and  mother  are  dressed  alike, 
as  the  song  sparrows  are,  the  young  birds  gen- 
erally differ  from  both  of  them.  When  the  father 
and  mother  are  different,  like  orioles  or  blue- 
birds, the  young  are  usually  like  the  mother  the 
first  season.  In  some  cases  the  father,  mother, 
and  young  are  almost  exactly  alike. 

Birds  who  live  on  the  ground  need  dresses  of 
dull  colors,  or  they  would  not  be  very  safe.  The 


24  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

ostrich  mother,  who  makes  her  nest  in  plain  sight 
on  the  sand,  is  dressed  in  grayish  brown.  When 
she  sits  on  the  eggs,  she  lays  her  long  neck  flat 
on  the  ground  before  her  j  then  she  looks  like 
one  of  the  ant-hills  that  are  common  on  the 
plains  of  Africa,  where  she  lives. 

The  South  American  ostrich,  or  rhea,  fluffs 
out  her  feathers  and  looks  like  a  heap  of  dry 
grass.  The  male  ostrich  is  dressed  in  showy 
black  and  white,  and  he  stays  away  all  day,  but 
takes  care  of  the  nest  at  night,  when  his  striking 
colors  cannot  be  seen. 


vn 

HOW    HE    CHANGES    HIS    CLOTHES 

IT  takes  a  bird  weeks  to  put  on  a  new  suit  of 
clothes.  He  has  nothing  but  his  feathers  to 
protect  him  from  cold  and  wet,  and  as  feathers 
cannot  grow  out  in  a  minute,  he  would  be  left 
naked,  and  suffer,  if  he  lost  them  all  at  once.  So 
he  changes  his  dress  one  or  two  feathers  at  a 
time. 

Some  day  a  feather  will  drop  from  each  wing. 
If  you  could  look,  you  would  see  that  new  ones 
had  started  out  in  the  same  place,  and  pushed 
the  old  ones  off.  When  the  new  ones  are  pretty 
well  grown  another  pair  will  fall  out. 

If  all  dropped  out  at  once,  besides  suffering 
with  cold  he'  would  not  be  able  to  fly,  and  he 
could  not  get  his  living,  and  anybody  could 
catch  him.  But  losing  only  one  from  each  side 
at  a  time,  he  always  has  enough  to  fly  with. 

It  is  the  same  way  with  his  tail  feathers.  He 
loses  them  in  pairs,  one  from  each  side  at  the 
same  time. 


26  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

The  soft  feathers  that  cover  his  body  drop 
out  one  by  one.  Thus  all  the  time  he  is  putting 
on  a  new  suit  he  still  wears  part  of  the  old  one. 
In  this  way  he  is  never  left  without  clothes  for  a 
moment. 

Most  birds  put  on  their  new  suits  just  after 
the  young  ones  are  grown  up,  and  before  they 
all  start  for  the  South  to  spend  the  winter,  —  that 
is,  with  many  of  our  common  birds,  in  August. 
At  that  time  they  are  rather  shy,  and  stop  sing- 
ing. If  you  did  not  see  one  now  and  then,  you 
might  think  they  were  all  gone. 

Sometimes  the  new  fall  suit  is  not  at  all  like 
the  old  one.  There  is  the  goldfinch,  all  summer 
in  bright  yellow.  When  he  comes  out  in  his 
new  suit  in  August,  it  is  dull-colored,  much  like 
the  one  his  mate  wears  all  the  year,  and  in  win- 
ter, when  goldfinches  fly  around  in  little  flocks, 
they  look  nearly  all  alike. 

In  the  spring,  the  male  goldfinch  comes  out 
again  in  yellow.  He  has  two  suits  a  year,  —  a 
bright  yellow  one  in  the  spring,  and  a  dull  olive- 
green  for  the  winter.  But  his  new  spring  dress 
is  not  a  full  suit.  The  yellow  of  the  body  is  all 
fresh,  but  the  black  wings  are  the  same  the  year 
round. 

Some  birds  have  two,  different  colored  dresses 
b  a  year;  one  they  get  without  changing  a 


BLACK  AND  WHITE  WARBLERS  (MALE  AND  FEMALE) 


HOW  HE  CHANGES  HIS  CLOTHES  27 

feather.  Suppose  they  have  feathers  of  black, 
with  gray  on  the  outside  edges.  All  winter  the 
gray  shows  and  the  birds  seem  to  have  gray 
coats.  But  in  spring  the  gray  edges  wear  or  fall 
off,  and  the  black  shows,  and  then  they  look  as 
if  they  had  come  out  in  new  black  suits.  It  is 
as  if  you  should  take  off  a  gray  overcoat  and 
show  a  black  coat  under -it. 

There  is  another  interesting  thing  about  birds' 
dress.  Some  of  them  look  like  their  mates,  the 
father  and  mother  birds  so  nearly  alike  that  it  is 
hard,  sometimes  impossible,  to  tell  them  apart. 
But  when  that  is  the  case,  you  will  notice  that 
the  color  is  not  very  gay.  If  the  father  wears  a  , 
bright-colored  suit,  the  mother  does  not  look  likqr 
him. 

For  this  reason  the  little  mother  is  not  too  easily 
seen  when  she  is  on  her  nest.  If  the  goldfinch 
mother  were  as  bright  as  her  mate,  everybody 
who  came  near  would  see  her  on  the  nest,  and 
some  animal  might  take  her,  and  leave  the  young 
birds  to  starve  to  death.  That  is  probably  why 
mother  birds  dress  in  such  dull  colors. 

When  birds  live  on  the  ground,  or  very  near 
it,  in  most  cases  both  of  the  pair  wear  the  dull 
colors,  so  they  will  not  easily  be  seen.  Wrens 
and  sparrows  and  many  others  are  so.  But  birds 
who  make  their  nests  in  holes,  or  under  ground, 


28  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

are  often  as  bright  as  their  mates,  because  they 
cannot  be  seen  while  sitting,  and  do  not  need  to 
wear  dull  colors. 

A  curious  thing  about  a  bird's  color  is  that 
the  same  species,  or  kind  of  bird,  is  darker  in 
one  place  than  another.  Where  there  is  much 
dampness  or  wet  weather,  the  colors  are  darker. 
For  instance,  a  bob-white  who  lives  in  Florida, 
or  one  who  lives  in  Oregon,  will  be  much  darker 
than  his  cousin  living  in  New  England. 


vm 

HIS   FIRST   FLIGHT 

WHEN  young  birds  are  in  the  nest  they  are 
not  very  pretty.  But  when  they  are  nearly 
feathered,  and  sit  up  on  the  edge,  exercising 
their  wings,  and  getting  ready  to  fly,  they  are 
lovely  to  look  at.  Their  feathers  are  more  fluffy 
and  fresh  than  those  of  the  old  birds. 

At  that  time  they  have  not  learned  to  be  afraid 
of  us,  and  if  we  do  not  frighten  them  by  rough- 
ness, loud  talking,  or  quick  movements,  we  can 
often  get  near  enough  to  see  them  well.  They 
will  sit  up  and  look  at  us  without  fear. 

Then  some  day,  all  at  once,  a  young  bird  will 
begin  to  flap  his  wings,  and  off  he  will  go,  flut- 
tering very  hard,  beating  his  wings,  and  trying 
to  reach  the  next  tree. 

Sometimes  he  will  reach  it,  and  perch  on  a 
twig,  and  sit  quite  still  a  long  time,  tired  with 
his  first  flight.  Then  the  parents  will  come  and 
feed  him,  and  after  a  while  he  will  fly  again. 
This  time  he  will  go  farther. 


30  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

So  he  will  go  on,  till  in  a  few  days  he  can  fly 
very  well,  and  follow  his  parents  about,  and  begin 
to  learn  where  to  get  food. 

Sometimes  when  a  young  bird  leaves  the  nest 
he  does  not  reach  the  tree  he  starts  for,  but  falls 
to  the  ground.  Then  there  is  trouble  among 
the  birds.  He  is  in  danger  of  being  picked  up 
by  a  cat  or  a  boy,  or  of  getting  tangled  in  the 
grass  or  weeds. 

The  poor  parents  are  half  wild  with  fear.  They 
coax  him  to  try  again,  and  they  follow  him  about 
in  the  grass,  in  great  distress.  I  have  many 
times  picked  up  a  little  bird,  and  set  him  on  a 
branch  of  a  tree,  or  stood  guard  over  him,  driv- 
ing away  cats  and  keeping  off  people,  till  he 
reached  a  place  where  he  would  be  safe. 

When  young  birds  are  out,  but  cannot  yet 
fly  very  well,  there  is  much  anxiety  about  them. 
Then,  if  any  one  comes  around  to  disturb  them, 
what  can  the  poor  little  mother  do  ?  Sometimes 
she  makes  her  young  ones  hide.  Some  of  the 
birds  who  live  on  the  ground  will  give  a  certain 
cry,  when  in  a  second  every  little  one  will  crouch 
on  the  ground,  or  creep  under  a  leaf,  and  be  per- 
fectly still.  And  their  dark  colors  look  so  like 
the  earth  one  can  hardly  see  them. 

Then  the  mother  tries  to  make  one  look  at 
her  by  queer  antics.  She  pretends  to  be  hurt, 


HIS  FIRST  FLIGHT  31 

and  tumbles  about  as  if  she  could  not  fly.  If  it 
is  a  man  or  an  animal  who  has  frightened  her, 
he  will  usually  think  he  can  easily  catch  her ; 
so  he  will  forget  about  the  young  ones,  and  fol- 
low her  as  she  goes  fluttering  over  the  ground. 
She  will  go  on  playing  that  she  is  hurt,  and 
moving  away,  till  she  leads  him  far  from  her 
brood.  Then  she  will  start  up  and  fly  away, 
and  he  cannot  find  his  way  back  to  where  the 
little  ones  are  still  crouching. 

Sometimes  when  a  mother  is  frightened,  she 
will  snatch  up  her  young  one  between  her  feet, 
and  fly  away  with  it.  Sometimes  a  mother  will 
fight,  actually  fly  into  the  face  of  the  one  she 
fears.  Often,  too,  other  birds  come  to  her  aid ; 
birds  of  many  kinds,  —  catbirds,  robins,  thrash- 
ers, and  others,  —  all  come  to  help  her  drive 
away  the  enemy,  for  birds  are  almost  always 
ready  to  help  each  other. 

I  once  found  a  young  blue  jay  who  had  come 
to  the  ground  while  trying  his  first  flight.  I 
thought  I  would  pick  him  up  and  put  him  on  a 
branch.  But  the  old  birds  did  not  know  what  I 
meant  to  do,  and  perhaps  they  were  afraid  I 
would  carry  him  off. 

They  flew  at  me  with  loud  cries  to  drive  me 
away,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  go,  for  I  did  not 
want  to  make  them  any  more  unhappy  than  they 
were  already. 


32  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

I  did  not  go  far,  because  I  wanted  to  see 
that  no  one  caught  the  little  one.  He  hopped 
about  in  the  grass  a  long  time,  while  his  parents 
flew  around  him  in  great  distress.  Many  times 
he  tried  to  fly,  but  he  could  not  rise  more  than 
two  feet  from  the  ground. 

At  last  he  seemed  to  make  up  his  mind  to 
climb  a  tree,  for  when  he  came  to  one  with  a 
rough  bark  he  began  to  go  up.  He  would  fly 
up  a  few  inches,  then  hold  on  with  his  claws  to 
rest.  And  so,  half  flying  and  half  climbing,  he 
went  on  till  he  reached  the  lowest  limb.  On 
that  he  perched  and  was  quiet,  glad  to  rest  after 
his  hard  work.  The  old  birds  were  happy,  too, 
and  brought  food  to  him,  and  so  I  left  them. 


IX 


HIS    EDUCATION 

THE  young  bird  has  to  be  educated,  or  trained 
for  his  life,  just  as  we  do,  though  not  exactly 
in  the  same  way. 

He  does  not  have  to  know  arithmetic  and 
history ;  and  what  he  needs  of  geography  is 
only  the  road  to  the  South,  where  he  spends  his 
winters. 

I  suppose  the  first  thing  he  learns  is  to  fly. 
You  have  heard,  perhaps,  that  the  old  birds 
drive  their  young  out  of  the  nest.  But  do  not 
believe  any  such  thing,  for  it  is  not  true.  I 
have  seen  many  little  birds  leave  the  nest,  and 
almost  every  one  flew  when  the  parents  were 
away  after  food. 

The  parents  sometimes  try  to  coax  a  nestling 
who  is  afraid  to  try  his  wings,  like  an  oriole  I 
knew  of.  All  the  young  orioles  had  flown 
except  this  one,  and  he  seemed  to  be  too  timid 
to  try.  He  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  nest,  and 
called  and  cried,  but  did  not  use  his  wings. 


34  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

The  father  came  to  see  him  now  and  then,  and 
at  last  he  made  him  fly  in  this  way.  He  caught 
a  fine,  large  moth,  and  brought  it  to  the  nest  in 
his  beak.  The  young  bird  was  very  hungry, 
and  when  he  saw  the  food,  he  opened  his  mouth 
and  fluttered  his  wings,  so  eager  to  get  it  he 
eould  hardly  wait. 

But  the  parent  did  not  feed  him.  He  let  him 
see  the  moth,  and  then,  with  a  loud  call,  he 
flew  to  the  next  tree.  "When  the  little  oriole 
saw  the  food  going  away,  he  forgot  he  was 
afraid,  and  with  a  cry  of  horror  he  sprang  after 
it ;  and  so,  before  he  knew  it,  he  had  flown. 

After  the  young  bird  can  fly,  he  needs  to  be 
taught  to  get  his  own  living,  or  to  find  his  own 
food,  and  also  where  to  sleep.  Then  he  must 
learn  what  to  be  afraid  of,  and  how  to  protect 
himself  from  his  enemies. 

He  needs  to  know  the  different  calls  and  cries 
of  his  family,  and  what  they  all  mean.  He  has 
to  learn  to  fly  in  a  flock  with  other  birds,  and 
he  must  learn  to  sing.  No  doubt  there  are  many 
more  lessons  for  him  that  we  do  not  know 
about. 

If  you  watch  little  birds  just  out  of  the  nest, 
you  may  see  them  being  taught  the  most  useful 
and  important  lesson,  how  to  find  their  food. 

The  robin  mother  takes  her  little  one  to  the 


BALTIMORE  ORIOLE   AND   NEST 


HIS  EDUCATION  35 

ground,  and  shows  him  where  the  worms  live 
and  how  to  get  them.  The  owl  mother  finds  a 
mouse  creeping  about  in  the  grass,  and  teaches 
the  owlets  how  to  pounce  upon  it,  by  doing  it 
herself  before  them. 

The  old  swallow  takes  her  youngsters  into  the 
air,  and  shows  them  how  to  catch  little  flies  on 
the  wing ;  while  mother  phrebe  teaches  hers  to 
sit  still  and  watch  till  a  fly  comes  near,  and  then 
fly  out  and  catch  it. 

If  you  watch  long  enough,  after  a  while  you 
may  see  the  old  bird,  who  is  training  a  young 
one,  fly  away.  She  may  leave  the  young  one 
alone  on  a  tree  or  the  ground,  and  be  gone  a 
long  time. 

Before  many  minutes  the  little  one  will  get 
hungry,  and  begin  to  call  for  food.  But  by 
and  by,  if  nobody  comes  to  feed  him,  he  will 
think  to  look  around  for  something  to  eat. 
Thus  he  will  get  his  lesson  in  helping  himself. 

Once  I  saw  a  woodpecker  father  bring  his 
little  one  to  a  fence,  close  by  some  raspberry 
bushes  that  were  full  of  berries.  He  fed  him 
two  or  three  berries,  to  teach  him  what  they 
were  and  where  they  grew,  and  then  quietly 
slipped  away. 

When  the  young  bird  began  to  feel  hungry 
he  cried  out  j  but  nobody  came.  Then  he  looked 


86  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

over  at  the  raspberries,  and  reached  out  and 
tried  to  get  hold  of  one.  After  trying  three  or 
four  times,  and  nearly  pitching  off  his  perch,  he 
did  reach  one.  Then  how  proud  he  was  ! 

The  father  stayed  away  an  hour  er  more,  and 
before  he  came  back  that  young  woodpecker 
had  learned  to  help  himself  very  well ;  though 
the  minute  his  father  came,  he  began  to  flutter 
his  wings  and  beg  to  be  fed,  as  if  he  were  half 
starved. 

A  lady,  who  fed  the  wild  birds  on  her  window 
sill  for  many  years,  and  watched  their  ways,  says 
she  often  saw  the  old  birds  teaching  their  little 
ones.  They  showed  them  where  the  food  was 
to  be  found,  and,  she  says,  regularly  taught 
them  the  art  of  eating. 

Then  she  saw  them  taught  to  be  afraid  of 
people,  not  to  come  too  near  her.  And  once  she 
saw  an  old  bird  showing  a  young  one  how  to 
gather  twigs  for  nest-building.  The  young  one 
looked  on  a  while,  and  then  tried  hard  to  do  it 
himself,  but  could  not  get  off  a  single  twig. 

Best  of  all,  the  same  lady  heard  an  old  robin 
giving  a  music  lesson.  The  teacher  would  sing 
a  few  notes  and  then  stop,  while  the  pupil  tried 
to  copy  them.  He  had  a  weak,  babyish  sort  of 
voice,  and  did  not  succeed  very  well  at  first. 

I  have  heard  several  birds  at  their  music  les- 
sons. 


SOME    OF    HIS    LESSONS 

IT  is  very  easy  to  catch  the  birds  teaching 
their  little  ones  to  exercise  their  wings  and  to 
fly  together.  You  will  see  the  young  birds 
sitting  quietly  on  fences  or  trees,  when  all  at 
once  the  parents  begin  to  fly  around,  with 
strange  loud  calls.  In  a  minute  every  young- 
ster will  fly  out  and  join  them.  Around  and 
around  they  all  go,  hard  as  they  can,  till  their 
little  wings  are  tired,  and  then  they  come  down 
and  alight  again. 

Once  I  saw  a  young  bird  who  did  not  go 
when  his  parents  called.  All  the  others  flew 
around  many  times,  and  I  suppose  that  young 
one  thought  he  would  not  be  noticed. 

But  mothers'  eyes  are  sharp,  and  his  mother 
saw  him.  So  when  she  came  back,  she  flew 
right  at  her  naughty  son,  and  knocked  him  off 
his  perch.  The  next  time  she  called,  he  flew 
with  the  rest.  This  was  a  crow  mother. 

I  have  seen  a  bluebird  just  out  of  the  nest, 


38  THE  FIRST  BOOK   OF  BIRDS 

taught  to  follow  his  father  in  this  way.  He 
stood  on  a  small  tree,  crying  for  something  to 
eat,  when  his  father  came  in  sight  with  a  beak- 
ful  of  food.  He  did  not  feed  him,  but  flew 
past  him,  so  close  that  he  almost  touched  him, 
and  alighted  on  the  next  tree,  a  little  beyond 
him. 

The  little  bluebird  saw  the  food,  and  at  once 
flew  after  it,  perched  beside  his  father,  and  was 
fed.  Then  the  old  bird  left  him,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  felt  hungry,  and  began  to  call 
again. 

I  kept  close  watch,  and  soon  the  father  came 
and  did  the  same  thing  over.  He  flew  past  the 
young  one  with  an  insect  in  plain  sight  in  his 
beak,  and  perched  on  another  tree  still  farther 
along  in  the  way  he  wanted  the  little  one  to  go. 

The  hungry  baby  followed,  and  was  fed  as 
before.  In  this  way  he  was  led  to  a  big  tree 
the  other  side  of  the  yard,  where  the  rest  of 
the  family  were,  and  where  they  all  spent  the 
night. 

An  old  robin  wanted  to  teach  her  young  one 
to  bathe.  She  brought  him  to  a  dish  of  water 
kept  for  their  use  by  some  people  who  were 
fond  of  birds.  The  little  one  stood  on  the  edge 
and  watched  his  mother  go  in,  and  splash  and 
scatter  the  water.  He  fluttered  his  wings,  and 


FLICKER 


SOME  OF  HIS  LESSONS  39 

was  eager  to  try  it  for  himself,  but  seemed  afraid 
to  plunge  in. 

At  last  the  mother  flew  away  and  left  him 
standing  there,  and  in  a  moment  came  back 
with  a  worm  in  her  mouth.  The  young  robin 
was  hungry,  as  young  birds  always  are,  and 
when  he  saw  the  worm,  he  began  to  flutter  his 
wings,  and  cry  for  it. 

But  the  mother  jumped  into  the  middle  of 
the  water  dish,  and  stood  there,  holding  the 
worm  in  his  sight.  The  youngster  wanted  the 
worm  so  much  that  he  seemed  to  forget  his  fear 
of  the  water,  and  hopped  right  in  beside  her. 
She  fed  him,  and  then  began  to  splash  about, 
and  he  liked  it  so  well  that  he  stayed  and  took 
a  good  bath. 

Birds,  as  these  stories  show,  teach  their  little 
ones  by  coaxing,  and  not  by  driving  them. 

An  Englishman,  Mr.  Lloyd  Morgan,  once 
had  some  ducks  and  chickens  hatched  away  from 
their  mother,  to  see  how  much  their  parents  had 
to  teach  them. 

He  found  that  these  little  orphans  had  to  be 
taught  to  pick  up  their  food,  and  to  know  what 
is  good  to  eat.  He  had  to  show  the  young 
ducks  how  to  dive,  and  teach  all  of  them  that 
water  is  good  to  drink. 

To  see  if  chickens  had  to  be  taught  the  hen 


40  THE  FIRST  BOOK  OF  BIRDS 

language,  he  put  them  out  by  their  mother 
when  they  were  a  few  days  old. 

The  hen  was  going  about  with  her  brood,  all 
brothers  and  sisters  of  Mr.  Morgan's  chicks, 
and  she  was  quite  ready  to  adopt  the  new  ones. 
She  clucked  and  called  to  them  with  all  her 
might,  but  they  did  not  come.  They  acted  as 
if  they  did  not  hear  her.  When  the  others  ran 
and  crept  under  her  wings  to  be  brooded,  the 
strangers  looked  on,  but  did  not  think  of  going 
too. 

They  did  not  understand  the  calls  or  the 
ways  of  their  own  mother.  They  had  not  been 
taught. 

A  careful  watcher  will  see  the  birds  teach 
these  things,  and  many  others  as  interesting. 
But  no  one  will  see  anything  unless  he  is  quiet, 
and  does  not  frighten  them. 


THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 


XI 

THE   BIRD'S    LANGUAGE 

WHEN  the  bird  is  grown  up,  there  are  many 
other  interesting  things  to  know  about  him, — 
one  is,  whether  he  can  talk. 

It  is  plain  to  those  who  have  studied  the  ways 
of  birds,  that  they  are  able  to  tell  things  to  each 
other,  and  many  writers  have  said  plainly  that 
birds  have  a  language. 

If  you  notice  birds  in  cages,  you  will  find  that 
when  two  or  more  of  a  kind  are  in  the  same 
room,  you  will  hear  little  chirps  and  twitters 
and  other  notes,  not  at  all  like  their  song.  But 
if  one  is  alone  in  a  room,  he  hardly  makes  a 
soun^d  except  when  singing. 

Then  see  a  robin  out  of  doors.  He  is  less 
afraid  of  us  than  most  birds,  and  easiest  to 
watch.  If  something  comes  up  on  him  sud- 
denly, he  gives  a  sharp  note  of  surprise.  If  a 
cat  appears,  he  has  another  cry  which  every  one 
can  understand,  a  word  of  warning  to  all.  If 
everything  is  quiet  and  his  mate  is  near,  he  will 
greet  her  with  some  low,  sweet  notes. 


44  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

When  a  partridge  mother  sees  danger,  she 
gives  one  call,  -which  all  her  brood  know,  and  at 
once  run  and  hide.  When  the  hen  speaks  to 
her  chicks,  they  know  well  whether  it  means  to 
come  to  her,  or  to  run  away. 

Of  course  birds  do  not  use  our  words.  When 
it  is  said  that  the  quail  says  "  Bob  White,"  it  is 
meant  that  his  call  sounds  like  those  words. 
To  some  the  notes  sound  like  "  more  wet."  One 
may  call  it  almost  anything,  like  "  all  right "  or 
« too  hot." 

You  will  read  in  books  about  birds,  that  a 
certain  warbler  says  "Witches  here,"  or  that 
the  white- throated  sparrow  says  "  Old  Sam  Pea- 
body,"  and  other  birds  say  still  different  things. 
The  writer  means  that  the  words  remind  one  of 
the  bird's  notes,  and  so  it  is  useful  to  know 
them,  because  it  helps  you  to  know  the  bird 
when  you  hear  him. 

I  have  many  times  seen  birds  act  as  if  they 
were  talking  to  each  other.  You  can  often  see 
the  city  sparrows  do  so. 

There  is  nothing  in  a  bird's  ways  that  we  like 
so  well  as  his  singing.  And  in  all  the  many 
species  of  birds  in  the  world,  no  two  sing  exactly 
alike,  so  far  as  I  can  find  out.  You  may  always 
know  a  bird  by  his  song.  A  robin  does  not 
sing  like  a  thrush  or  a  catbird.  And  what  is 


THE  BIRD'S  LANGUAGE  45 

more,  not  one  of  the  sounds  he  utters  is  like 
those  made  by  any  other  bird.  If  you  know 
him  well,  whatever  noise  he  makes,  you  will 
know  at  once  that  it  is  a  robin. 

But  there  is  something  still  more  curious 
about  it.  No  robin  sings  exactly  like  another 
robin.  When  you  come  to  know  one  bird  well, 
you  can  tell  his  song  from  any  other  bird's.  Of 
course,  all  robins  sing  enough  alike  for  one  to 
know  that  it  is  a  robin  song,  but  if  you  listen 
closely,  you  will  see  that  it  is  really  different 
from  all  others. 

Persons  who  have  kept  birds  in  cages  have 
noticed  the  same  thing. 

There  is  still  another  point  to  know.  One 
bird  does  not  always  sing  the  same  song.  I 
have  heard  a  song  sparrow  sing  five  or  six  differ- 
ent songs,  standing  all  the  time  in  plain  sight  on 
a  fence.  In  the  same  way  I  have  known  a  mea- 
dowlark  to  make  six  changes  in  his  few  notes. 

Besides  their  own  natural  songs,  many  birds 
like  to  copy  the  notes  of  others.  Our  mocking- 
bird is  very  fond  of  learning  new  things,  and  he 
does  not  always  choose  songs  either. 

He  will  imitate  the  noise  of  filing  a  saw,  or  the 
pop  of  a  cork,  as  readily  as  the  sweetest  song. 
I  have  heard  one  sing  the  canary's  song  better 
than  the  canary  himself. 


46  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

Other  birds  can  do  the  same.  A  common 
English  sparrow  picked  up  in  the  streets  of  a 
big  city,  hurt,  and  not  able  to  fly,  was  put  into 
a  room  with  a  canary. 

No  doubt  the  wild  bird  found  his  life  in  a 
cage  rather  dull,  after  having  been  used  to  the 
streets,  and  he  soon  began  to  amuse  himself  try- 
ing to  do  as  the  canary  did,  to  sing.  In  a  few 
weeks  he  learned  the  whole  song,  and  he  could 
sing  it  even  better  than  his  roommate,  for  his 
voice  was  full  and  rich,  and  not  so  shrill  as  the 
canary's. 

Most  people  think  that  birds  sing  all  summer. 
They  think  so  because  they  have  not  taken 
notice.  We  who  are  very  fond  of  bird  song 
know  it  is  not  so. 

Singing  begins  when  the  birds  first  come  in 
the  spring.  It  goes  on  while  the  nest  is  being 
built,  and  the  mother  bird  is  sitting.  The 
father  has  little  to  do  at  that  time,  and  so  he 
sings.  And  besides,  he  seems  to  be  so  happy 
that  he  cannot  help  it. 

But  when  little  ones  begin  to  call  for  food, 
he  has  to  be  very  busy,  and  does  not  have  so 
much  time  for  music.  Some  birds  stop  singing 
as  soon  as  they  go  to  feeding. 

But  not  all  do  so.  Many  go  on  singing  till 
they  begin  to  change  their  clothes,  or  to  moult, 


THE  BIRD'S  LANGUAGE  47 

as  it  is  called.  This  happens  in  August  or 
September,  and  when  it  begins,  a  bird  seems  to 
lose  his  voice. 

One  of  the  first  to  stop  singing  is  the  bobo- 
link. He  is  rarely  heard  after  June  is  past. 
The  veery  is  another  whose  singing  days  are 
over  early.  You  may  hear  his  call  in  the  woods, 
if  you  know  it,  but  not  a  song  will  you  hear 
after  the  middle  of  July. 

By  the  time  August  comes  in,  almost  every 
bird  is  silent,  except  for  his  calls  or  "talk." 
The  birds  to  be  heard  then  are  the  red-eyed 
vireo,  who  seems  never  to  tire,  and  now  and 
then  the  indigo-bird,  or  the  wood  pewee,  and 
best  of  all,  the  dear  little  song  sparrow,  who 
keeps  up  his  cheery  songs  till  the  very  last. 

Then  you  will  know  that  all  the  birds  are 
busy  putting  on  their  new  suits  for  their  long 
journey. 


xn 

WHAT  HE  EATS 

WHAT  the  bird  eats  and  where  he  gets  his 
food  are  useful  things  for  us  to  know.  It  has 
only  lately  been  found  out  that  birds  are  the 
most  valuable  of  helpers  to  us. 

What  we  cannot  eat  ourselves,  they  are  happy 
to  live  on,  and  things  that  make  us  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  are  their  daily  food. 

Some  of  the  things  they  are  fond  of  are 
little  animals,  like  mice  and  ground  squirrels, 
that  eat  our  crops.  Others  are  insects  which 
spoil  our  fruit  and  eat  up  our  vegetables,  canker- 
worms  and  cutworms,  and  a  hundred  more. 

Besides  these,  many  birds  eat  the  seeds  of  cer- 
tain weeds  that  farmers  have  to  fight  all  the 
tune. 

One  reason  this  helps  us  so  greatly  is  that 
birds  eat  much  more  for  their  size  than  we  do. 
A  boy  of  six  or  eight  years  could  not  possibly 
eat  a  whole  sheep  in  one  day,  but  a  young  bird 
can  easily  eat  more  than  his  own  weight  every 
day. 


WHAT  HE  EATS  4f 

They  want  more  than  three  meals  too.  They 
need  to  eat  very  often.  One  catbird  will  take 
thirty  grasshoppers  for  his  breakfast,  and  in  a 
few  hours  he  will  want  thirty  more.  So  he  de- 
stroys a  great  many  in  a  day. 

Birds  begin  eating  long  before  we  are  out  of 
bed,  and  keep  it  up  till  night  comes  again,  or  as 
long  as  they  can  see. 

You  must  not  think  the  birds  are  greedy,  as 
a  person  would  be  if  he  ate  every  few  minutes 
all  day.  They  are  made  to  do  so.  It  is  their 
business  to  destroy  insects,  small  animals,  and 
weeds  that  trouble  us  so  much,  and  the  more 
they  eat  the  better  for  us. 

Let  us  see  where  they  go  for  food.  Each 
bird  has  his  own  place  to  work. 

The  catbird  watches  the  fruit-trees,  and  all 
day  long  eats  insects  that  are  spoiling  our  fruit 
or  killing  the  trees.  When  the  cherries  are 
ripe,  we  should  not  forget  that  he  has  saved  the 
fruit  from  insects,  and  has  well  earned  a  share 
for  himself. 

If  you  spent  days  and  weeks  picking  off  in- 
sects, would  you  not  think  you  had  earned  part 
of  the  fruit  ?  "  For  every  cherry  he  eats  "  (says 
a  man  who  has  watched  him),  "  he  has  eaten  at 
least  one  thousand  insects." 

The    robin    eats  great   numbers  of   canker- 


50  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

worms,  which  destroy  our  apples,  and  cutworms, 
which  kill  the  corn. 

The  bluebird  sits  on  the  fence  keeping  sharp 
watch,  and  every  few  minutes  flies  down  and 
picks  up  a  grasshopper  or  a  cricket,  or  some 
such  grass-eating  insect. 

Woodpeckers  hunt  over  the  trunks  and  limbs 
of  trees.  They  tap  on  the  bark  and  listen,  and 
if  they  hear  a  grub  stir  inside,  they  cut  a  hole 
in  the  bark  and  drag  it  out.  The  downy  is 
fond  of  insects  that  infest  our  apple-trees,  and 
he  makes  many  holes  in  the  trunks.  But  it 
does  not  hurt  the  trees.  It  is  good  for  them, 
for  it  takes  away  the  creatures  that  were  eating 
them. 

Orioles  go  over  the  fruit-trees,  and  pick  out 
tiny  insects  under  the  leaves,  and  when  they 
find  great  nests  on  the  branches,  they  tear  them 
open  and  kill  the  caterpillars  that  made  them. 

Little  warblers,  such  as  the  pretty  summer 
yellow-bird,  help  to  keep  our  trees  clear,  doing 
most  of  their  work  in  the  tops,  where  we  can 
hardly  see  them. 

Swallows  fly  about  in  the  air,  catching  mos- 
quitoes and  tiny  flies  that  trouble  us. 

Very  useful  to  us  are  the  birds  who  feed 
upon  dead  animals,  such  as  the  turkey  buzzards, 
who  may  be  seen  any  day  in  our  Southern 


WHAT  HE  EATS  51 

States,  soaring  about  high  in  the  air,  looking 
for  their  food. 

What  they  eat  is  so  very  unpleasant  to  us 
that  we  are  apt  to  despise  the  birds.  But  we 
should  cherish  and  feel  grateful  to  them  in- 
stead. For  they  are  doing  us  the  greatest  kind- 
ness. In  many  of  the  hot  countries  people 
could  not  live,  if  these  most  useful  birds  were 
killed. 

Some  persons  think  buzzards  find  their  food 
by  seeing  it,  and  others  are  just  as  sure  that 
they  smell  it.  Perhaps  they  use  both  senses. 


54  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

The  goldfinch  is  called  the  thistle -bird,  be* 
cause  he  likes  best  the  seeds  of  thistles,  though 
he  eats  the  beggar's-ticks  too. 

The  chipping  sparrow,  the  little  red-headed 
bird  who  comes  about  our  doors,  eats  the  seeds 
of  fox-tail  and  crab  grasses,  that  spoil  our  lawns. 

The  white-throated  sparrow,  a  large  and  very 
pretty  bird,  eats  the  seeds  of  smartweed  and 
ragweed.  Other  finches  like  bittersweet,  sorrel, 
and  amaranth,  all  of  which  we  are  glad  to  have 
them  eat. 

The  seed-eating  birds  can  find  their  food  in 
winter,  even  when  snow  covers  the  ground,  be- 
cause the  dead  weeds  hold  on  to  their  seeds,  and 
the  snow  is  not  often  deep  enough  to  cover 
them. 

Some  birds  gather  their  food  in  the  fall,  and 
hide  it  away  where  they  can  find  it  in  winter. 
Blue  jays  collect  acorns  and  beech-nuts,  and 
store  them  in  a  hole  in  a  tree,  or  some  other 
safe  place,  to  eat  when  food  is  scarce.  A  wood- 
pecker who  lives  in  the  West  picks  holes  in  the 
bark  of  a  tree,  and  puts  an  acorn  into  each  one. 

The  oddest  store  I  know  of  was  made  by  a 
woodpecker.  He  found  a  long  crack  in  a  post, 
and  stuffed  it  full  of  live  grasshoppers.  He  did 
not  like  dead  grasshoppers.  He  wedged  them 
into  the  crack  so  tightly  that  they  could  not  get 


BLUE   JAY 


MORE  ABOUT  HIS  FOOD  55 

out,  and  I  do  not  know  that  they  wanted  to. 
When  grasshoppers  were  scarce  in  the  fields,  he 
came  day  after  day  to  his  queer  storehouse,  till 
he  had  eaten  every  one. 

One  of  the  woodpecker  family  who  lives  in 
Mexico  stores  nuts  and  acorns  in  the  stems  of 
plants.  These  stems  are  hollow  and  made  in 
joints  like  bamboo.  The  bird  cuts  a  hole  at  the 
upper  end  of  a  joint,  and  stuffs  it  full.  When 
he  wants  his  nuts,  he  cuts  a  hole  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  joint  and  pulls  them  out. 
-~I  once  had  a  tame  blue  jay,  who  was  fond  of 
saving  what  he  could  not  eat,  and  putting  it 
safely  away.  The  place  he  seemed  to  think 
most  secure  was  somewhere  about  me,  and  he 
would  come  slyly  around  me  as  I  sat  at  work, 
and  try  to  hide  his  treasure  about  my  clothes. 

When  it  was  a  dried  currant  or  bit  of  bread, 
I  did  not  care ;  but  when  he  came  on  to  my 
shoulder,  and  tried  to  tuck  a  dead  meal  worm 
into  my  hair  or  between  my  lips,  or  a  piece  of 
raw  beef  under  a  ruffle  or  in  my  ear,  I  had  to 
decline  to  be  used  as  a  storehouse,  much  to  his 
grief. 

He  liked  to  put  away  other  things  as  well  as 
food.  Matches  he  seemed  to  think  were  made 
for  him  to  hide.  His  chosen  place  for  them  was 
between  the  breadths  of  matting  on  the  floor. 


66  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

Once  he  found  a  parlor  match,  hunted  up  a 
good  opening,  and  put  it  in.  Then  he  went  on, 
as  he  always  did,  to  hammer  it  down  so  tightly 
that  it  would  stay.  One  of  the  blows  of  his 
hard  beak  struck  the  lighting  end  of  the  match, 
and  it  went  off  with  a  sharp  crack.  The  noise 
and  the  flame  which  burst  out  made  the  bird 
jump  three  feet,  and  scared  him  nearly  out  of 
his  senses. 

After  that  I  took  care  to  keep  the  matches 
out  of  the  way  of  a  bird  so  fond  of  hiding 
things. 


XIV 

WHERE   HE   SLEEPS 

MOST  birds  sleep  on  their  feet. 

You  know  how  a  canary  goes  to  sleep,  all 
puffed  out  like  a  ball,  with  his  head  buried  in 
the  feathers  of  his  shoulder.  He  may  stick  his 
bill  over  behind  the  top  of  the  wing,  but  he 
never  "  puts  his  head  under  his  wing,"  as  you 
have  heard. 

Sometimes  he  stands  straight  up  on  one  leg, 
with  the  other  drawn  up  out  of  sight  in  his  fea- 
thers, but  more  often  he  sits  down  on  the  perch, 
still  resting  on  his  feet.  Most  wild  birds  of  the 
perching  kind  sleep  in  the  same  way. 

It  is  only  lately  that  we  have  begun  to  find 
out  where  birds  sleep,  because  it  is  dark  when 
they  go  to  bed,  and  they  get  up  before  it  is 
light  enough  for  us  to  see  them. 

The  only  way  to  catch  them  in  bed  is  to  go 
out  in  the  evening,  and  start  them  up  after  they 
have  gone  to  sleep.  And  this  is  not  very  kind 
to  the  poor  little  birds.  Some  men  who  are  try- 


68  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

ing  to  learn  about  the  habits  of  birds  have  tried 
this  way,  and  so  have  found  out  some  of  their 
sleeping-places. 

One  thing  they  have  learned  is  that  the  nest 
is  not  often  used  for  a  bed,  except  for  the 
mother,  while  she  is  sitting  and  keeping  her 
little  ones  warm. 

Eobins  and  orioles,  and  others,  creep  into  the 
thick  branches  of  an  evergreen  tree,  close  up  to 
the  trunk.  Some  crawl  under  the  edge  of  a 
haystack,  others  into  thick  vines  or  thorny 
bushes.  All  these  are  meant  for  hiding-places, 
so  that  beasts  which  prowl  about  at  night,  and 
like  to  eat  birds,  will  not  find  them. 

Tree  sparrows  like  to  sleep  in  holes  in  the 
ground  like  little  caves.  The  men  who  found 
these  cosy  little  bedrooms  think  they  are  places 
dug  out  by  field  mice,  and  other  small  animals, 
for  their  own  use.  And  when  they  are  left,  the 
birds  are  glad  to  take  them. 

When  the  weather  is  cold,  some  birds  sleep 
under  the  snow.  You  may  think  that  would 
not  be  very  warm,  and  it  is  not  so  warm  as  a 
bed  in  the  house  with  plenty  of  blankets.  But 
it  is  much  warmer  than  a  perch  in  a  tree,  with 
nothing  but  leaves  to  keep  off  the  wind. 

While  the  snow  is  falling,  some  birds  find  it 
as  good  as  blankets  for  their  use.  Grouse,  who 


WHERE  HE  SLEEPS  69 

live  on  the  ground,  dive  into  a  snow-bank,  and 
snuggle  down  quietly,  while  the  snow  falls  and 
covers  them  all  over,  and  keeps  the  cold  wind  off. 
Air  comes  through  the  snow,  so  they  do  not 
smother. 

Some  birds  creep  into  a  pile  of  brush  that  is 
covered  with  snow,  and  find  under  the  twigs 
little  places  like  tents,  where  the  snow  has  been 
kept  out  by  the  twigs,  and  they  sleep  there, 
away  from  the  wind  and  storm  outside. 

Water  birds  find  the  best  sleeping-places  on 
the  water,  where  they  float  all  night  like  tiny 
boats.  Some  of  them  leave  one  foot  hanging 
down  and  paddling  a  little,  while  they  sleep,  to 
keep  from  being  washed  to  the  shore. 

Bob-white  and  his  family  sleep  in  a  close 
circle  on  the  ground,  all  with  their  heads  turned 
outward,  so  that  they  can  see  or  hear  an  enemy, 
whichever  way  he  comes. 

Hawks  and  eagles  are  said  to  sleep  standing, 
never  sitting  on  the  feet  like  a  canary.  Some 
ducks  and  geese  do  even  more :  they  sleep  stand- 
ing on  one  foot.  Woodpeckers  and  chimney 
swifts  hang  themselves  up  by  their  claws,  using 
their  stiff  tail  for  a  brace,  as  if  it  were"  a  third 
leg. 

Some  birds,  like  the  crows,  sleep  in  great 
flocks.  They  agree  upon  a  piece  of  woods,  and 


60  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

all  the  crows  for  miles  around  come  there  every 
night.  Sometimes  thousands  sleep  in  this  one 
bedroom,  called  a  crow  roost.  Robins  do  the 
same,  after  the  young  are  big  enough  to  fly  so 
far. 

Audubon,  who  has  told  us  so  much  about 
birds,  once  found  a  hollow  tree  which  was  the 
sleeping  -  room  of  chimney  swifts.  The  noise 
they  made  going  out  in  the  morning  was  like  the 
roar  of  a  great  mill-wheel. 

He  wanted  to  see  the  birds  asleep.  So  in  the 
daytime,  when  they  were  away,  he  had  a  piece 
cut  out  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  big  enough  to  let 
him  in,  and  then  put  back,  so  the  birds  would 
not  notice  anything  unusual. 

At  night,  after  the  swifts  were  abed,  he  took 
a  dark  lantern  and  went  in.  He  turned  the 
light  upon  them  little  by  little,  so  as  not  to  startle 
them.  Then  he  saw  the  whole  inside  of  the 
tree  full  of  birds.  They  were  hanging  by  their 
claws,  side  by  side,  as  thick  as  they  could  hang. 
He  thought  there  were  as  many  as  twelve  thou- 
sand in  that  one  bedroom. 


XV 

HIS    TRAVELS 

MOST  of  our  birds  take  two  long  journeys 
every  year,  one  in  the  fall  to  the  south,  and  the 
other  in  the  spring  back  to  the  north.  These 
journeys  are  called  "  migrations." 

The  birds  do  not  go  all  at  once,  but  in  many 
cases  those  of  a  kind  who  live  near  each  other 
collect  in  a  flock  and  travel  together.  Each 
species  or  kind  has  its  own  time  to  go. 

It  might  be  thought  that  it  is  because  of  the 
cold  that  so  many  birds  move  to  a  warmer  cli- 
mate. But  it  is  not  so ;  they  are  very  well 
dressed  to  endure  cold.  Their  feather  suits  are 
so  warm  that  some  of  our  smallest  and  weakest 
birds  are  able  to  stay  with  us,  like  the  chickadee 
and  the  golden-crowned  kinglet.  It  is  simply 
because  they  cannot  get  food  in  winter,  that  they 
have  to  go. 

The  fall  travel  begins  soon  after  the  first  of 
July.  The  bobolink  is  one  of  the  first  to  leave 
us,  though  he  does  not  start  at  once  on  his  long 


62  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

journey.  By  that  time  his  little  folk  are  full 
grown,  and  can  take  care  of  themselves,  and  he 
is  getting  on  his  winter  suit,  or  moulting. 

Then  some  morning  all  the  bobolinks  in  the 
country  are  turned  out  of  their  homes  in  the 
meadows,  by  men  and  horses  and  mowing-ma- 
chines, for  at  that  time  the  long  grass  is  ready 
to  cut. 

Then  he  begins  to  think  about  the  wild  rice 
which  is  getting  just  right  to  eat.  Besides,  he 
likes  to  take  his  long  journey  to  South  America 
in  an  easy  way,  stopping  here  and  there  as  he 
goes.  So  some  morning  we  miss  his  cheerful 
call,  and  if  we  go  to  the  meadow  we  shall  not  be 
able  to  see  a  single  bobolink. 

There,  too,  are  the  swallows,  who  eat  only 
small  flying  insects.  As  the  weather  grows 
cooler,  these  tiny  flies  are  no  longer  to  be  found. 
So  the  swallows  begin  to  flock,  as  it  is  called. 
For  a  few  days  they  will  be  seen  on  fences  and 
telegraph  wires,  chattering  and  making  a  great 
noise,  and  then  some  morning  they  will  all  be 
gone. 

They  spend  some  time  in  marshes,  and  other 
lonely  places,  before  they  at  last  set  out  for  the 
south. 

As  the  days  grow  shorter  and  cooler,  the  war- 
blers go.  These  are  the  bright-colored  little 


INDIGO-BIRD 


HIS  TRAVELS  63 

fellows,  who  live  mostly  in  the  tops  of  trees. 
Then  the  orioles  and  the  thrushes  and  the  cuckoos 
leave  us,  and  most  birds  who  live  on  insects. 

By  the  time  that  November  comes  in,  few  of 
them  will  be  left.  Birds  who  can  live  on  seeds 
and  winter  berries,  such  as  cedar -berries  and 
partridge-berries,  and  others,  often  stay  with  us, 
—  bluebirds,  finches,  and  sometimes  robins. 

Many  birds  take  their  journey  by  night. 
Think  of  it !  Tiny  creatures,  that  all  summer 
go  to  bed  at  dark,  start  off  some  night,  when  it 
seems  as  if  they  ought  to  be  asleep,  and  fly  all 
night  in  the  dark. 

When  it  grows  light,  they  stop  in  some  place 
where  they  can  feed  and  rest.  And  the  next 
night,  or  two  or  three  nights  later,  they  go  on 
again.  So  they  do  till  they  reach  their  winter 
home,  hundreds  or  thousands  of  miles  away. 

These  night  flyers  are  the  timid  birds,  and 
those  who  live  in  the  woods,  and  do  not  like  to 
be  seen,  —  thrushes,  wrens,  vireos,  and  others. 
Birds  with  strong  wings,  who  are  used  to  fly- 
ing hours  every  day,  and  bolder  birds,  who  do 
not  mind  being  seen,  take  their  journey  by  day- 
light. 

Most  of  them  stop  now  and  then,  a  day  or 
two  at  a  time,  to  feed  and  rest.  They  fly  very 
high,  and  faster  than  our  railroad  trains  can  go. 


64  THE   BIRD  GROWN  UP 

In  the  spring  the  birds  take  their  second  long 
journey,  back  to  their  last  year's  home. 

How  they  know  their  way  on  these  journeys, 
men  have  been  for  many  years  trying  to  find  out. 
They  have  found  that  birds  travel  on  regular 
roads,  or  routes,  that  follow  the  rivers  and  the 
shore  of  the  ocean.  They  can  see  much  better 
than  we  can,  and  even  in  the  night  they  can  see 
water. 

One  such  road,  or  highway,  is  over  the  har- 
bor of  New  York.  When  the  statue  of  Liberty 
was  set  up  on  an  island  in  the  harbor  a  few 
years  ago,  it  was  put  in  the  birds'  path. 

Usually  they  fly  too  high  to  mind  it ;  but  when 
there  is  a  rain  or  fog  they  come  much  lower, 
and,  sad  to  say,  many  of  them  fly  against  it  and 
are  killed. 

We  often  see  strange  birds  in  our  city  streets 
and  parks,  while  they  are  passing  through  on 
their  migrations,  for  they  sometimes  spend  sev- 
eral days  with  us. 

A  sparrow,  who  was  hurt  and  unable  to  fly, 
was  picked  up  one  fall  and  kept  in  a  house  all 
winter.  He  was  not  caged,  and  he  chose  for 
his  headquarters  and  sleeping-place  a  vase  that 
stood  on  a  shelf. 

He  went  with  the  family  to  the  table,  and 
made  himself  very  much  at  home  there.  He 


HIS  TRAVELS  65 

picked  out  what  he  wanted  to  eat  and  drink,  and 
scolded  well  if  he  did  not  have  it. 

The  thing  he  liked  best  was  butter,  and  when 
he  was  ready  to  wipe  his  bill  after  eating,  as 
birds  do,  he  found  the  coat-sleeve  of  the  master 
soft  and  nice  for  the  purpose.  This  pleased  the 
bird  better  than  it  did  the  owner  of  the  sleeve, 
but  he  tried  in  vain  to  keep  the  saucy  fellow 
off.  If  he  forgot  for  an  instant  to  watch  the 
bird,  he  would  dash  up,  wipe  off  the  butter,  and 
fly  away  out  of  the  reach  of  everybody. 

In  the  spring  the  sparrow  left  the  family,  and 
lived  out  of  doors.  But,  with  the  first  cold 
weather  of  fall,  he  came  back,  went  to  his  old 
vase,  and  settled  himself  for  the  winter  again. 
This  he  did  for  several  years. 


XVI 

HIS   WINTER   HOME 

NEARLY  every  bird  has  two  homes,  one  f 01 
winter  and  one  for  summer. 

We  can  see  why  birds  leave  us  and  go  to  a 
warmer  and  better  place  for  the  winter  ;  but  why 
they  do  not  stay  in  that  country  where  there  is 
always  plenty  of  food,  but  choose  to  come  back 
in  the  spring  to  their  old  home,  we  do  not 
know. 

It  may  be  because  they  want  more  room  to 
build  nests,  and  bring  up  their  little  ones.  Or 
it  may  be  that  they  want  to  come  back  because 
they  love  their  old  home. 

Whatever  may  be  the  reason,  it  is  well  for  us 
that  they  do  so,  for  if  we  had  no  more  birds  in 
the  summer  than  we  have  in  the  winter,  we 
should  suffer  very  much  from  insects.  We 
could  not  raise  fruit,  or  vegetables,  or  grain,  for 
insects  would  eat  it  all.  That  is  one  reason  we 
are  so  glad  that  birds  come  back  to  us  in  the 
spring. 


HIS  WINTER  HOME  67 

Though  so  many  birds  leave  us  in  the  fall, 
they  do  not  all  go.  A  few  come  to  us  who  have 
nested  farther  north,  and  some  who  have  been 
with  us  all  summer  stay  over  winter  too.  These 
last  are  called  "permanent  residents,"  that  is, 
they  stay  all  the  year  round. 

In  the  Middle  States  of  the  East —  New  York, 
Pennsylvania,  New  Jersey,  and  Ohio  —  there  are 
twenty  or  twenty-five  who  stay  all  the  year. 
There  are  several  hawks  and  owls  and  wood- 
peckers, the  crow,  bob-white,  the  blue  jay,  and 
the  meadowlark,  and,  of  the  little  ones,  the  gold- 
finch, in  his  sober  winter  coat,  his  cousin  the 
purple  finch,  the  song  sparrow,  the  nuthatch, 
and  the  chickadee. 

Besides  these  "permanent  residents,"  there 
are  ten  or  twelve  who  come  from  the  north. 
The  funny  little  saw-whet  owl  is  one,  and  the 
snowflake,  who  loves  to  frolic  in  the  snow,  is 
another. 

Many  of  our  summer  birds  stay  in  the  South- 
ern States  all  winter.  Those  who  can  eat  seeds 
and  winter  berries  —  for  instance,  robins  and 
bluebirds,  catbirds  and  sparrows  —  need  not  go 
very  far  south  ;  and  some  of  them  even  stay 
in  the  State  of  New  York. 

Most  of  our  birds  who  do  not  eat  berries,  but 
must  have  insects,  go  farther,  some  to  Florida 


68  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

or  the  West  Indies,  others  to  Central  America, 
and  a  few  even  into  South  America,  —  except 
the  woodpecker,  who  gets  his  insects  under  the 
bark  of  trees. 

The  summer  birds  of  the  Western  States  nearly 
all  go  to  Mexico  for  the  winter. 

The  little  birds  who  stay  with  us  are  only 
those  who  can  eat  seeds,  as  I  said,  or  the  eggs 
and  insects  to  be  found  in  the  crevices  of  the 
bark  on  trees.  These  birds  do  a  great  deal  of 
good,  for  each  one  destroys  thousands  of  insects 
before  they  have  come  out  of  the  egg.  One 
small  chickadee  will  eat  several  hundred  insect 
eggs  in  a  day. 

These  little  fellows  can  almost  always  find 
their  food,  for  the  snow  seldom  covers  the  trunks 
of  the  trees ;  but  now  and  then  in  the  winter 
we  have  an  ice  storm ;  then  the  trunks  and 
branches  are  buried  under  ice,  so  that  the  birds 
suffer,  and  perhaps  will  starve  to  death. 

In  such  a  time  it  will  be  kind  of  you  who 
live  in  the  country  to  put  out  food  for  them. 
You  can  give  them  any  table  scraps  of  meat  or 
vegetables,  or  bread,  chopped  fine  for  their  tiny 
mouths,  with  corn  or  grain  for  bigger  birds. 

What  they  all  like  best  to  eat  is  suet,  —  which 
the  butcher  will  give  you,  —  chopped  fine,  or, 
better  still,  nailed  or  tied  to  a  branch  or  a  fence, 


HIS  WINTER  HOME  69 

so  that  they  can  pick  off  morsels  for  them- 
selves. This  will  make  them  all  very  happy ; 
but  you  must  see  that  the  English  sparrow  does 
not  drive  them  away,  or  eat  it  all  himself. 

Some  persons  who  live  in  the  country  or 
small  towns  spread  a  table  every  day  through 
the  winter  for  the  birds.  Many  come  for  food, 
and  they  have  great  pleasure  in  watching  them 
and  studying  their  ways. 

One  lady  I  know  who  is  an  invalid,  and  her 
greatest  happiness  in  the  long  cold  months,  when 
she  cannot  go  out,  is  to  set  her  breakfast-table, 
and  watch  the  guests  who  come  to  it. 

She  lives  in  the  southern  part  of  Ohio,  and 
she  has  all  winter  cardinal  grosbeaks,  or  red- 
birds  as  she  calls  them,  blue  jays,  tufted  titmice, 
and  others.  The  cardinals  are  fine  singers,  and 
they  sing  to  her  every  month  in  the  year. 


xvn 

HIS   FAMILY    AND    FRIENDS 

MANY  people  think  that  as  soon  as  the  young 
birds  of  a  nest  are  full  grown,  and  know  how  to 
take  care  of  themselves,  the  family  separate,  and 
have  no  more  to  do  with  each  other.  Some  have 
even  said  that  the  old  birds  push  the  little  ones 
out  of  the  nest  to  get  rid  of  them. 

All  this  is  a  great  mistake,  and  any  one  who 
has  watched  them  carefully  will  say  so. 

In  many  cases,  when  the  brood  is  grown  and 
all  have  left  the  nest,  the  whole  family  keep  to- 
gether. One  who  has  eyes  sharp  to  see  will  find 
everywhere  little  groups  of  parents  with  their 
young.  If  the  old  birds  rear  more  than  one 
brood  in  a  summer,  the  young  ones  of  the  first 
nest  keep  together. 

I  have  often  seen  little  parties  of  young  blue- 
birds or  sparrows  going  about  after  food  on  the 
grass,  or  on  the  newly  cut  hay.  Now  and  then 
one  of  the  parents  would  come  around  as  if  to 
see  that  all  was  well,  and  then  leave  them  alone 


HIS  FAMILY  AND  FRIENDS      •  71 

again.  When  the  second  brood  is  ready  to  go 
out,  the  whole  family  often  unite  in  a  small  flock. 
In  some  cases,  where  they  could  be  watched,  they 
have  been  known  to  stay  so  all  winter.  All 
through  July  and  August,  in  the  New  England 
and  Middle  States,  one  may  see  these  pretty  little 
family  groups. 

Some  birds  who  live  and  nest  by  themselves, 
each  pair  in  its  own  tree,  or  bush,  or  field,  come 
together  in  larger  parties  after  the  young  are 
grown,  in  a  social  way.  A  few  do  this  only  at 
night,  in  what  are  called  roosts,  which  I  spoke 
of  in  a  former  chapter. 

Other  birds,  when  nestlings  are  out,  unite  in 
flocks,  and  stay  so  all  the  time,  or  through  the 
winter.  Our  pretty  little  goldfinch  does  this. 

Most  of  the  birds  we  see  about  our  homes  like 
to  have  a  tree  or  bush  to  themselves  for  their 
nest.  But  there  are  many  birds  that  live  close 
together  all  the  time.  Some,  you  may  say,  in 
small  villages,  —  swallows,  for  instance.  We 
generally  see  several  swallows  flying  about  to- 
gether. They  make  their  nests  near  each  other. 
The  barn  swallow  chooses  the  beams  inside  the 
barn,  and  there  are  often  three  or  four  or  more 
nests  in  the  same  barn. 

The  eave  swallows  put  their  mud  cottages  in 
a  row,  under  the  eaves  outside  the  barn.  One 


72  THE  BIRD  GROWN   UP 

would  think  they  needed  to  have  numbers  on 
their  doors,  to  know  which  was  their  own. 

There,  too,  are  the  common  crow  blackbirds. 
They  come  in  the  spring  in  crowds,  and  when  it 
is  time  to  make  nests,  they  find  some  grove  or 
clump  of  trees  that  suits  them,  and  all  of  them 
build  their  nests  close  together.  Often  there  are 
two  or  three  on  one  tree,  like  a  bird  city.  There 
they  live  and  rear  their  little  ones,  and  it  is  said 
they  never  quarrel. 

Then  there  are  the  birds  who  get  their  food 
from  the  sea,  such  as  penguins.  These  birds  live 
in  big  cities,  of  many  thousand  nests.  They  go 
to  an  island  where  no  people  live,  and  build  on 
the  ground,  or  on  rocks,  or  anywhere. 

Sometimes  they  are  so  near  together  one  can 
hardly  walk  without  stepping  on  them.  How 
each  mother  can  tell  her  own,  it  is  hard  to  see. 
They  live  very  happily  together,  and  if  a  mother 
is  killed,  so  that  her  little  ones  are  left  orphans, 
one  of  the  neighbors  will  adopt  them  all,  and 
feed  and  bring  them  up  with  her  own. 

Some  of  these  birds  do  not  even  take  the 
trouble  to  make  a  nest.  They  put  the  eggs  any- 
where on  the  sand  or  earth. 

Some  one,  Mr.  Brehm,  I  think,  tells  a  pretty 
story  about  a  certain  kind  of  duck  who  rears  two 
broods  every  season.  After  the  ducklings  of  the 


HIS  FAMILY  AND  FRIENDS  73 

first  brood  have  learned  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves, they  go  about  together,  getting  their  food 
and  sailing  on  the  water  in  a  little  party,  while 
their  parents  are  hatching  the  second  brood. 
But  when  the  younger  ones  are  big  enough, 
they  are  led  to  the  water,  and  at  once  their  elder 
brothers  and  sisters  join  them.  They  all  swim 
around  together,  the  youngest  in  the  middle  of 
the  group,  where  they  are  protected  and  fed  by 
the  elder  brood  as  well  as  by  the  parents,  a  lovely 
and  united  little  family. 


xvm 

HIS   KINDNESS   TO    OTHERS 

BIRDS  are  helpful  to  each  other  when  in 
trouble.  If  a  robin  is  in  distress,  other  robins 
will  come  to  see  what  is  the  matter,  and  to  help 
if  they  can.  And  not  only  robins,  but  catbirds, 
and  orioles,  and  chickadees,  and  others,  will 
come,  too. 

Sometimes  when  a  person  tries  to  rob  a  nest, 
all  the  birds  near  will  come  in  a  crowd,  to  drive 
away  the  thief.  They  will  cry  and  scream  at 
him,  and  sometimes  fly  at  his  face,  and  try  to 
peck  his  eyes. 

Birds  are  so  little  they  cannot  fight  a  man, 
but  if  they  can  peck  at  his  face,  they  can  hurt 
him,  and.  if  they  really  get  at  his  eyes,  they  can 
put  them  out.  We  cannot  blame  the  birds  for 
trying  to  protect  themselves  and  their  young, 
and  it  is  well  for  boys  to  be  careful  how  they 
disturb  a  nest. 

One  proof  that  birds  really  do  help  each 
other  is  the  fact  that  when  a  man  wants  to  know 


SCARLET  TANAGER 


HIS  KINDNESS  TO  OTHERS  75 

what  birds  live  in  a  place,  he  can  bring  them  all 
around  him  by  making  a  sound  like  a  young 
bird  in  distress.  All  who  hear  it  will  come  to 
see  what  is  the  matter. 

Let  me  tell  you  a  story  of  some  young  swal- 
lows. They  were  able  to  fly  a  little,  and  were 
sitting  together  on  a  roof,  when  a  lady  who 
was  watching  them  noticed  that  one  of  them 
seemed  to  be  weak,  and  not  able  to  stand  up. 

When  the  parents  came  with  food,  the  others 
stood  up  and  opened  their  mouths,  and  so  were 
fed,  but  this  little  one  hardly  ever  got  a  morsel. 

If  birds  had  no  love  for  each  other,  as  many 
people  think,  these  strong  little  ones  would  not 
have  cared  if  their  brother  did  starve;  but  what 
did  the  lady  see?  She  says  that  two  of  the 
strong  young  swallows  came  close  up  to  their 
weak  brother,  one  on  each  side.  They  put  their 
beaks  under  his  breast  and  lifted  him  up  on  to 
his  legs,  and  then  crowded  so  close  against  him 
that  their  little  bodies  propped  him  up,  and  held 
him  there;  so  that  he  had  his  chance  of  being 
fed  as  well  as  they. 

Many  times  birds  have  been  seen  who  were 
blind  or  old,  or  who  had  a  wing  or  a  leg  broken, 
or  were  in  some  way  hurt  so  that  they  could  not 
take  care  of  themselves,  and  who  were  being 
waited  upon  by  other  birds,  fed,  and  led  to  the 
water  to  drink  and  bathe. 


76  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

Birds  have  been  found  caught  in  the  lining  of 
a  nest,  so  that  they  were  held  there  and  could 
not  go  for  food.  They  had  been  there  for 
weeks,  and  would  have  starved  to  death  if  they 
had  not  been  fed.  Yet  they  were  so  well  taken 
care  of  by  other  birds  that  they  were  strong  and 
able  to  fly. 

In  one  case,  where  the  nest  was  in  a  tree  trunk, 
the  hole  in  the  trunk  had  grown  up,  so  that 
when  big  enough  to  fly,  they  could  not  get  out, 
and  they  had  been  there  for  months.  Yet  when 
a  man  cut  open  the  trunk  and  let  them  out,  they 
were  well  and  lively,  proving  that  they  had  been 
fed  by  friends  outside  all  that  time. 

I  could  tell  you  many  true  stories  of  the  kind 
care  of  birds  for  each  other,  and  for  baby  birds 
who  had  lost  their  parents,  or  been  stolen  away 
from  them. 

A  gentleman  in  Massachusetts  told  me  that 
when  he  was  a  boy  he  saw  a  small  flock  of  che- 
winks  who  came  about  a  house  where  food  was 
put  out  for  birds.  They  came  every  day,  and  he 
soon  saw  that  one  was  bigger  than  the  rest,  and 
that  he  never  tried  to  pick  up  anything  for  him- 
self, but  all  the  others  fed  him. 

One  day  he  was  cruel  enough  to  throw  a  stone 
at  the  bird  who  was  so  well  taken  care  of,  and 
when  he  took  up  his  victim,  he  found  that  the 


HIS  KINDNESS  TO  OTHERS  77 

upper  and  lower  parts  of  his  bill  were  crossed, 
so  that  he  could  not  pick  up  anything  from  the 
ground,  where  chewinks  find  their  food.  He 
had  been  born  thus  deformed,  and  if  he  had  not 
been  fed  every  day  by  his  friends  he  must  have 
starved  to  death.  Yet  so  well  had  he  been  cared 
for  that  he  was  better  grown  than  any  of  the 
others. 


XIX 

HIS   AFFECTIONS 

I  AM  sure  I  need  not  say  that  father  and 
mother  birds  love  their  little  ones. 

So  much  does  the  mother  love  her  nestlings 
that  she  is  often  willing  to  die  for  them.  Orioles 
and  chickadees  will  let  themselves  be  caught  in 
the  hand  of  one  who  has  taken  their  young, 
rather  than  desert  them. 

Some  birds  live  in  our  chimneys,  generally  in 
a  flue  that  is  not  in  use,  and  are  called  chimney 
swifts.  If  a  chimney  takes  fire  the  mother  swift 
tries  hard  to  get  her  little  ones  out,  but  if  they 
cannot  fly,  she  has  been  seen  to  fly  into  the  fire 
herself,  and  die  witl^  them. 

Robins  have  been  found  frozen  to  death  on 
their  nest.  They  could  easily  have  saved  them- 
selves, but  they  would  not  leave  their  young  ones 
to  perish.  A  ground  bird  has  been  known  to  sit 
on  her  nest  during  a  freezing  storm,  till  she  died, 
rather  than  go  and  leave  her  little  ones  to  suffer. 

Once  when  a  young  cedar-bird  was   caught 


HIS  AFFECTIONS  79 

and  carried  off,  the  father  followed  it  for  miles, 
crying  and  showing  so  much  distress  that  the 
man  who  had  stolen  it  was  sorry  for  him,  and 
let  the  little  one  go. 

Every  one  who  has  watched  them  knows  that 
birds  love  their  mates.  A  man  once  shot  a  sea 
bird,  when  her  mate  came  about  him,  crying 
and  showing  his  grief  as  well  as  if  he  could 
speak. 

I  could  easily  fill  a  book  with  stories  to  prove 
that  birds  are  loving  to  their  mates  and  young, 
and  all  of  them  true. 

It  does  not  seem  strange  that  birds  are  fond 
of  their  own,  but  they  love  others  also.  And 
not  only  other  birds,  but  even  animals  like  cats, 
dogs,  and  horses  sometimes. 

I  once  had  an  English  goldfinch  in  the  house. 
He  was  a  little  fellow,  not  so  big  as  a  canary, 
and  he  was  very  fond  of  another  bird  in  the 
room.  This  was  a  scarlet  tanager,  who  was 
much  larger  than  himself. 

The  small  bird  showed^his  love  for  his  red 
friend,  just  as  people  show  love,  by  staying 
close  to  him,  singing  to  him,  and  driving  away 
any  bird  who  came  too  near. 

A  lady  once  told  me  this  story  showing  the 
love  of  a  pigeon  for  a  cat.  The  cat  was  fond 
of  lying  on  the  broad  window  sill.  When  the 


80  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

pigeon  saw  her  there,  he  would  fly  down,  and 
alight  beside  her.  Then  he  would  press  up 
close  to  her,  and  rub  against  her  fur,  as  if  glad 
to  see  her,  and  the  cat  seemed  to  enjoy  it  as 
much  as  the  bird. 

Often  a  bird  who  is  tamed  loves  his  human 
friends.  A  man  had  a  crow  who  was  very  fond 
of  him.  He  had  reared  the  bird  from  the  nest 
and  never  shut  him  up,  but  let  him  fly  about 
wherever  he  chose. 

One  day  he  was  out  in  a  sudden  rain,  and  his 
feathers  got  wet,  so  that  he  could  not  fly  well. 
Then  a  boy  caught  him,  and  carried  him  seven 
miles  away.  He  clipped  one  wing,  so  that  the 
crow  could  not  fly,  and  kept  .him  shut  in  the 
house  all  winter.  In  the  spring,  the  first  time  he 
could  get  out,  the  bird  started  for  his  old  home. 

He  could  not  fly,  but  he  walked  the  seven 
miles,  through  mud  and  wet,  and  came  home  so 
tired  that  he  was  almost  dead.  When  his  mas- 
ter saw  him  coming  he  went  to  meet  him,  took 
him  up  and  petted  him,  and  talked  to  him. 

The  poor  fellow  was  so  happy  it  seemed  as  if 
he  could  not  live.  But  he  was  taken  care  of, 
and  got  well,  and  lived  many  years.  But  never 
after  that  would  he  leave  the  place,  though 
when  his  new  feathers  came  in  he  could  fly  as 
well  as  ever. 


HOUSE   WREN 


HIS  AFFECTIONS  81 

Canary  birds  often  love  their  mistresses.  I 
have  heard  of  one  who  was  so  grieved  by  a  harsh 
word,  that  in  a  few  minutes  he  fell  off  his  perch 
dead. 

These  true  stories  show  us  how  tender  and 
loving  these  little  creatures  are,  and  how  careful 
we  should  be  to  treat  them  gently  and  kindly. 

An  interesting  and  true  story  is  told  by  a 
clergyman  in  Ohio.  It  is  a  habit  of  wrens  to 
find  a  good  nesting-place,  and  then  look  for  a 
mate  to  occupy  it.  One  spring  a  wren  chose  a 
nice  bird-box  on  his  place,  and  held  it  ready  for 
the  expected  bride.  But  she  did  not  come,  and 
a  pair  of  English  sparrows  took  a  fancy  to  the 
same  house. 

Sparrows  expect  to  get  what  they  want,  and 
are  always  ready  to  fight  for  it,  so  they  gave 
battle  to  the  wren.  But  wrens  also  will  fight 
for  their  own,  and  this  wren  held  his  house 
against  the  enemy  for  two  weeks.  Still  the 
mate  did  not  appear,  and  finally  the  lonely  bird 
lost  heart,  and  let  the  sparrows  set  up  house- 
keeping in  his  box,  though  he  did  not  go  away. 

When  the  young  sparrows  were  hatched,  and 
feeding  began,  the  wren  suddenly  became 
friendly.  He  hunted  up  small  green  worms, 
probably  such  as  are  good  for  wrenlings,  and 
offered  them  to  the  young  sparrows. 


82  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

Nestlings  are  never  known  to  refuse  anything 
to  eat,  and  wren  food  seemed  to  suit  the  sparrows, 
for  they  soon  outgrew  the  nursery. 

All  summer  this  queer  thing  went  on.  The 
sparrows  reared  three  or  four  broods,  and  the 
wren  did  his  full  share  of  the  work,  —  and  not 
only  of  feeding  the  young,  but  of  repairing  and 
rebuilding  the  nest  for  each  fresh  brood. 


XX 

HIS   INTELLIGENCE 

BEFORE  people  knew  very  much  about  the 
ways  of  birds,  it  was  thought  that  they  did  not 
have  to  be  taught  anything,  but  that  they  knew 
everything  they  needed  to  know,  as  soon  as  they 
were  born.  That  is,  they  were  said  to  act  from 
instinct  alone,  and  not  at  all  from  reason,  as  we 
do. 

Another  notion  that  people  had  was  that  birds 
of  a  kind  were  just  alike ;  that  they  looked  ex- 
actly like  each  other,  all  acted  in  the  same  way, 
and  all  sang  the  same  song. 

But  since  we  have  begun  to  study  birds  more 
closely,  we  find  these  things  are  not  true.  We 
find  that  birds  learn  things  by  being  taught,  as 
we  do.  Also,  they  find  out  how  to  do  things 
themselves,  and  they  are  not  all  alike,  as  so  many 
machines. 

More  than  this,  we  see  that  they  do  not  look 
nor  act  exactly  like  each  other.  For  when  we 
know  one  robin  or  one  oriole  well,  we  can  tell 


84  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

him  from  any  other  robin  or  oriole.  And,  as  I 
said  before,  no  two  of  a  kind  sing  precisely  the 
same  song. 

A  bird  shows  his  intelligence  in  many  ways. 
One  is  by  the  way  he  acts  when  he  cannot  do  as 
he  is  used  to  doing.  A  robin  I  know  of  wished 
to  build  a  nest,  but  could  not  find  mud  to  put 
into  it,  for  it  was  a  very  dry  time,  and  there 
were  no  streams  near.  Now  a  robin's  nest  must 
have  mud,  and  the  bird  seemed  puzzled  for 
a  while.  But  at  last  she  thought  of  a  way  to 
get  it. 

She  went  to  a  bathing-dish  that  the  people  of 
the  house  kept  filled  with  water  for  the  birds, 
jumped  into  it,  and  got  her  legs  very  wet. 
Then  she  flew  to  the  road,  and  tramped  around 
in  the  dust  and  dirt. 

In  a  short  time  her  legs  had  a  good  coating 
of  mud,  which  she  carefully  picked  off  with  her 
bill,  and  took  to  the  nest  she  was  building. 

This  she  did  a  great  many  times,  and  the 
lady  who  told  me  of  it  watched  her  till  she  had 
as  much  mud  as  she  needed. 

A  bird  often  shows  sense  by  the  way  she 
repairs  a  nest  that  has  been  thrown  out  of  place. 
Sometimes  she  will  add  a  new  stay,  tying  the 
nest  to  a  stronger  limb.  One  sparrow,  whose 
nest  broke  loose,  put  so  many  stays  to  the 


HIS  INTELLIGENCE  85 

branch  above  that  they  made  a  little  roof  like  a 
tent  over  it. 

Another  way  a  bird  shows  reason  is  in  seeing 
the  advantage  of  a  new  place.  A  pair  of  swal- 
lows lived  far  out  in  the  West,  hundreds  of 
miles  from  any  house.  They  had  no  doubt 
always  nested  in  a  cave,  or  a  hole  in  a  tree.  But 
one  day  they  found  a  house  put  up.  It  was  a 
mere  shed,  to  be  used  as  a  blacksmith  shop,  by  a 
party  of  men  who  were  looking  over  the  country. 

At  once  the  birds  saw  how  nice  it  would  be 
to  have  a  roof  over  their  heads.  And  although 
there  was  a  big  fire,  and  the  noise  of  men  at 
work,  they  *  built  the  nest  over  the  anvil,  and 
reared  the  family  in  safety. 

Woodpeckers  have  shown  that  they  can  learn. 
Some  of  them  have  found  an  easier  way  to  get 
food  than  to  dig  through  the  bark  of  trees 
for  it. 

The  flicker,  or  golden-winged  woodpecker, 
has  learned  that  ants  and*  other  insects  are  good 
to  eat,  and  now  he  does  not  think  of  digging 
into  bark  any  more. 

The  red-headed  woodpecker  has  learned  to 
catch  flies  like  a  common  flycatcher.  The  yellow*- 
bellied,  or  sapsucker,  cuts  holes  in  the  trees,  and 
eats  the  insects  that  come  to  feed  on  the  sweet 
sap  that  drips  from  them. 


86  THE  BIRD  GROWN  UP 

Woodpeckers  have  also  learned  to  cut  a  hole 
through  a  board  and  nest  inside  a  building,  in- 
stead of  drilling  a  deep  hole  in  the  trunk  of  a 
tree  for  a  nest. 

Birds  show  intelligence  when  they  draw  us 
away  from  their  young  ones,  by  acting  as  if 
they  were  hurt  and  not  able  to  fly.  I  have  al- 
ready spoken  about  that. 

Sometimes  when  a  bird  is  caught  he  will  lie 
quiet  send  pretend  to  be  dead.  But  all  the  time 
he  is  looking  out  for  a  chance  to  fly  away. 

A  man  who  watched  birds  very  closely  once 
saw  an  interesting  instance  of  their  intelligence. 
They  were  two  of  the  birds  who  get  their  food 
on  the  seashore  by  turning  over  stones  and  eat- 
ing the  creatures  hidden  under  them.  They 
had  found  a  big  dead  fish  thrown  up  on  the 
beach  and  half  buried  in  sand.  Under  such  a 
fish  they  were  sure  they  should  find  food,  so 
they  went  to  work  to  turn  it  over.  The  fish 
was  three  and  a  half  feet  long,  and  the  birds 
were  about  as  big  as  our  sandpipers.  So  it  was 
a  hard  thing  to  do. 

First  they  pushed  against  it  with  their  beaks 
and  breast,  but  it  did  not  move.  Then  they 
went  around  the  other  side  and  scratched  away 
a  good  deal  of  sand  from  under  the  fish,  and 
went  back  and  tried  again  to  turn  it  over.  Still 
it  was  too  heavy  to  stir. 


HIS  INTELLIGENCE  87 

Again  they  ran  around  the  other  side,  scraped 
away  more  sand,  and  tried  it  once  more.  They 
kept  up  this  work  for  half  an'  hour,  but  did  not 
succeed  in  stirring  the  great  fish. 

At  this  time  the  man,  who  had  hidden  himself 
to  watch  them,  saw  another  bird  coming.  The 
two  little  workers  greeted  him  with  joyful  cries, 
to  which  he  replied  in  the  same  tones.  Then 
all  three  set  to  work  on  the  heavy  fish.  They 
dug  more  sand  out  from  the  lower  side,  and 
then  pushed  against  the  upper  side  with  all  their 
strength.  They  lifted  it  a  few  inches,  but  it 
fell  back. 

At  last,  after  resting  a  few  minutes,  without 
moving  from  their  places,  they  worked  it  in  this 
way.  They  rested  their  breasts  on  the  sand, 
put  their  beaks  under,  and  lifted.  When  the 
fish  was  raised  several  inches,  they  held  it  with 
their  beaks  and  pushed  their  breasts  against  it, 
when  over  it  went,  down  the  little  pitch  they 
had  made. 

They  could  not  stop,  and  they  went  with  it, 
but  at  once  came  back  and  found  enough  to  pay 
them  for  their  hard  work. 

One  who  really  watches  birds  to  see  what 
they  are  doing  will  see  many  actions  that  show 
intelligence  and  reason. 


HOW  HE  IS  MADE 


92  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

He  can  sing  while  he  is  working  very  hard  to 
fly  upward.  If  you  will  try  to  sing  while  run- 
ning up  a  hill,  you  will  see  how  hard  it  is  to  do 
that. 

A  bird's  head  is  joined  to  his  neck  at  one  place, 
something  like  a  hinge.  Other  animals,  like  dogs 
and  cats,  have  two  hinges,  or  places  of  joining. 
That  is  why  a  bird  is  able  to  turn  his  head 
around  so  far  that  he  can  look  down  his  own 
back.  No  other  creature  can  do  so. 

Because  of  this,  he  is  able  to  dress  every 
feather  on  his  body,  and  to  sleep  with  his  head 
laid  back  on  his  shoulder. 

Nearly  all  birds  have  some  of  their  bones  hol- 
low, and  air -sacs,  or  pockets,  under  the  skin. 
These  sacs  they  can  fill  with  air  and  make  them- 
selves light,  so  that  those  who  live  in  the  water 
cannot  sink,  but  float  like  a  cork. 

Men  who  study  the  way  birds  are  made  do 
not  yet  know  all  the  uses  of  the  hollow  bones 
and  air-sacs.  That  is  one  of  the  things  left  for 
you  young  folk  to  find  out. 

Birds  who  get  their  food  in  marshes,  or  the 
edge  of  the  water,  have  long  legs  for  wading. 
They  have  also  long  necks,  so  they  can  pick  up 
food  from  the  ground. 

Birds  who  swim  have  webs  between  the  toes, 
that  turn  their  feet  into  paddles. 


CHEWINK,   OR   TOWHEE 


HIS  BODY  93 

Birds  have  very  large  gullets.  In  many  cases 
the  gullet  leads  into  a  place  called  the  crop,  where 
food  is  kept  before  it  goes  into  the  stomach. 
Sometimes  the  food  is  made  soft  in  the  crop,  and 
then  fed  to  the  young  ones,  as  I  told  you. 

Birds  have  no  teeth,  yet  they  eat  hard  seeds, 
like  acorns  and  grains  of  corn.  To  break  these 
up,  and  get  them  ready  for  the  stomach,  they 
have  a  gizzard,  which  is  a  sort  of  grinding-mill. 
And  to  help  in  the  work  of  grinding  they  swal- 
low small  stones. 

One  of  the  wonderful  things  about  birds  is  the 
height  at  which  they  can  live,  and  not  only  live, 
but  fly.  A  man  cannot  go  higher  than  twenty- 
two  or  twenty-three  thousand  feet,  while  moving 
about  or  exercising,  because  the  air  is  so  rare  he 
cannot  breathe.  The  highest  a  man  was  ever 
known  to  go  and  live,  it  is  said,  was  less  than 
thirty  thousand  feet,  -and  that  was  in  a  balloon, 
where  he  did  not  move. 

But  birds  go  a  good  deal  higher  than  this, 
and  can  fly  —  which  is  violent  exercise  —  at 
that  height.  It  is  thought  by  some  that  the 
thinness  of  the  air  may  be  the  cause  of  the  great 
speed  with  which  birds  fly  in  that  region.  But 
there  is  still  much  to  be  found  out  about  this. 

Besides  the  marvels  of  flight,  birds  have  other 
powers  almost  as  strange.  Many  of  them  can  fly 


94:  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

under  water  with  perfect  ease,  and,  more  than 
that,  they  can,  when  they  wish,  sink  slowly  till 
nothing  is  left  above  water  but  their  beaks,  to 
breathe.  And  they  can  stay  so  as  long  as  they 
choose,  keeping  still  in  one  spot,  without  moving. 

A  cormorant  in  a  zoological  garden,  who 
wanted  to  catch  some  of  the  swallows  skim- 
ming over  the  pond,  sank  his  body  till  only  his 
head  was  out,  and  held  himself  there  perfectly 
still. 

Birds  who  are  hunted,  as  geese,  have  been 
known  to  save  their  lives  in  that  way,  by  sink- 
ing their  body  under  water,  leaving  in  sight  only 
the  tip  of  the  bill,  which  is  so  small  it  is  not 
readily  seen. 

To  do  such  things,  birds  must  be  able  to  make 
their  bodies  heavy  when  they  choose,  as  well  as 
light,  which  we  know  they  are  able  to  do  by  fill- 
ing their  air-sacs  with  air. 

There  are  many  things  still  to  be  found  out 
about  the  powers  of  birds. 


XXII 


HIS   BEAK    AND    TONGUE 

How  does  a  bird  get  along  without  a  hand  ? 
He  has  to  prepare  food ;  to  keep  his  feathers  in 
order ;  to  build  the  nest ;  to 
feed  and  take  care  of  the  young; 
and  sometimes  to  fight  other 
birds.  How  can  all  this  be 
done  without  a  hand  ? 

The  beak  is  the  only  thing 
most  birds  have  in  place  of  a  hand,  and  it  is 
wonderful  to  see  how  many  things  they  can  do 
with  it. 

Orioles  use  it  as  a  needle,  in  making  the  nest. 
With  it  they  weave  strips  of  soft  bark  or  strings, 
back  and  forth,  in  and  out,  to  make  the  firm 
pocket  they  hang  on  the 
elm-tree  (see  Fig.  1). 

A  woodpecker's  beak  is 
a  chisel  or  pick,  to  cut  a 
J.  2.  deep  hole  in  a  tree  trunk 

Bill  of  Woodpecker.         f  or  a  nest  (Fig.  2).    With 


96 


HOW  HE  IS  MADE 


FIG.  3. 
Bill  of  Swal- 
low. 


a  nuthatch  it  is  a  hammer,  to  crack  the  nut  he 

has  wedged  into  a  crevice  in  the  bark  so  tightly 

it  cannot  slip. 

Some  birds  use  the  beak  to  dig  in  the  ground, 
as  the  bank  swallows,  while  the  barn 
swallows  make  it  a  trowel,  to  carry 
and  plaster  mud  (Fig.  3).  All  of 
them  use  it  as  a  hand  to  feed  them- 
selves, and  a  brush  and  comb  to  dress 
their  feathers. 

Birds  need  to  use  the  beak  a  good 

deal,  because  in  most  cases  it  grows  like  our 

finger-nails.     If  they  did  not  keep  it  worn  off, 

it   would    grow   so   long   as   to   trouble  them. 

Sometimes  when  a  bird  lives  in  a  cage  and  does 

not  use  his  bill,  it  grows  so  long  that  he  can 

hardly    pick    up    his 

food. 

"   The        woodcock's 

long  beak  is  sensitive, 

so  that  he  can  feel  the 

worms,  deep    in    the 

mud  where  they  live. 

Many     waders      and 

swimmers  have  beaks 

soft  like  leather. 

^  You  can  tell  by  the  shape  of  the  beak  how  a 

bird  lives,  and  what  he  eats.   The  strong,  hooked 


FIG.  4. 
Bill  of  Hawk. 


HIS  BEAK  AND  TONGUE  97 

beak  of  a  hawk  shows  that  he  catches  live  ani- 
mals to  eat  (Fig.  4).  The  long,  narrow,  sharp 
bill  of  a  heron  shows  that  he  spears  his  prey, 
often  under  water. 

The  sharp-pointed  bill  of  a  warbler  is  to  pick 
tiny  insects  and  eggs  out  of  blos- 
soms, and  from  under  leaves.  The 
sharp-edged  bill  of  a  sparrow  (Fig. 
5)  is  to  break  open  the  hard  shells 
of  seeds.  gm  of  Sparrow> 

The  curious  beak  of  a  crossbill 
(Fig.  6)  is  to  pick  seeds  out  of  pine 
cones. 

A  duck's  wide  beak,  with  a 
strainer  at  the  edge,  is  to  let  water  . 

.  «  .  Bill  of  Crossbill. 

out   while    keeping   tood   in.      A 
spoon-shaped  bill  is  to  scoop  up  food,  and  a  thin, 
flat  one  is  to  poke  into  narrow  cracks. 

Both  parts  of  the  beak,  which  take  the  place 
of  our  jaws,  are  called  mandibles,  upper  and 
lower.  Both  of  them  can  be  moved,  while  we 
can  move  only  our  lower  jaw. 

Birds'  tongues  are  as  curious  as  their  beaks. 
To  all  birds  they  take  the  place  of  a  finger,  as 
the  beak  takes  the  place  of  a  hand,  and  they 
differ  as  much  as  the  beaks  from  each  other. 

Insect  eggs  are  very  small,  and  often  packed 
snugly  into  cracks  and  corners,  and  the  birds 


98  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

who  eat  them  have  a  brush  on  the  tip  of  the 
tongue,  which  brushes  an  egg  out  of  its  hiding- 
place  very  easily. 

The  nuthatch  picks  his  small  grubs  out  of 
crevices  in  bark  with  the  four-tined  fork  at  the 
end  of  his  tongue. 

A  hummingbird's  tongue  can  be  used  as  a 
tube,  to  draw  up  the  honey  of  flowers, 
or  perhaps  as  a  pair  of  tweezers,  to  pick 
out  the  tiny  spiders  that  live  there. 

A  woodpecker  has  barbs  on  his 
tongue,  to  spear  insects  hidden  under 
the  bark,  as  shown  by  Mr.  Lucas  (Fig. 
7).  It  is  said  to  be  sticky  also,  to  hold 
small  ones,  like  ants. 

The  tongues   of  birds  are  of  many 
shapes,   but   each  one  is   fitted   to   its 
owner's  way  of  getting  a  living. 
FIG.  7.          Because  the  tongue  is  often  horny, 
rjF'P  °fe     and  they  eat  strange  things,  it  is  some- 
of  Downy    times  thought  that  birds  have  little  sense 
°^  taste-    But  we  cannot  be  sure  of  this, 
and   we    know   they  all   have   notions 
about  their  food. 

Dr.  Ward  tells  a  story  of  some  geese,  which 
shows  that  they  do  not  lack  that  sense.  While 
sailing  upon  a  river  he  noticed  on  the  bank 
some  geese,  feeding  on  the  rinds  of  watermelon, 


HIS  BEAK  AND  TONGUE  99 

which  they  picked  out  of  the  garbage  dumped 
there. 

The  rind,  when  taken  out  of  the  mass,  was 
none  too  clean,  being  covered  with  mud  and 
other  dirt.  When  a  goose  found  a  piece  to  suit 
him,  he  took  it  up,  carried  it  to  the  edge,  and 
dropped  it  into  the  shallow  water.  Then  he 
stood  and  watched  it  till  the  running  stream 
washed  it  clean,  when  he  stepped  into  the  water 
and  quickly  ate  off  the  part  he  wanted. 


xxm 

HIS   EYES    AND    EARS 

BIRDS'  eyes  are  very  different  from  ours.  To 
begin  with,  they  are  round.  Then  they  are 
placed  one  on  each  side  of  the  head,  so  that 
they  can  look  two  ways  at  once.  Owls  are  the 
only  birds  who  have  eyes  turned  forward  like 
ours. 

Birds'  eyes  also  are  of  many  colors.  Besides 
our  common  black,  brown,  blue,  and  gray,  birds 
have  light  and  dark  green,  bright  red,  pale  and 
deep  yellow  and  orange,  even  white. 

They  have,  like  us,  two  eyelids.  But  while 
we  use  the  upper  one  to  close  our  eyes,  most 
birds  use  the  lower  one.  They  have  also  a  third 
eyelid,  inside  the  others,  a  thin,  white  sort  of 
skin,  that  moves  across  the  eye  from  side  to  side, 
and  is  called  the  "  nictitating  membrane." 

There  are  other  ways  in  which  birds'  eyes 
differ  from  ours.  The  men  who  try  to  know 
exactly  how  birds  are  made  have  found  out  that 
birds'  eyes  make  everything  look  much  larger 


REDSTARTS  (FEMALE  ON  NEST; 


HIS  EYES  AND  EARS  101 

than  it  is,  in  other  words,  they  are  like  magni- 
fying glasses,  or  microscopes,  so  that  a  tiny  in- 
sect egg,  that  we  can  hardly  see,  looks  very  big 
to  a  warbler. 

Stranger  still,  when  a  bird  is  far  off,  his  eyes 
are  like  telescopes.  That  is,  when  a  hawk  is 
soaring  about  far  above  the  earth,  he  can  see  a 
mouse  on  the  ground  as  well  as  if  he  had  a  tele- 
scope to  look  through.  And  the  gulls  who  sail 
about  over  the  shore,  and  follow  steamers  on  sea 
voyages,  can  see  small  fish  and  tiny  bits  of 
bread  thrown  out  by  the  passengers,  even  when 
they  are  lost  to  us  in  the  foam  made  by  the 
vessel. 

Mr.  Frank  Bolles  had  a  pet  barred  owl,  and 
used  to  take  him  out  with  him.  He  says  that 
the  bird's  sight  was  wonderful,  better  than  his 
own  aided  by  a  strong  glass.  Many  times  the 
bird  would  see  and  watch  a  hawk  so  far  off  that 
Mr.  Bolles  with  his  glass  could  not  see  him  until 
he  came  ne*arer,  and  then  he  looked  no  bigger 
than  a  dot  against  the  sky. 

There  is  a  story  told  of  some  small  birds  mi- 
grating over  the  island  of  Heligoland,  suddenly 
coming  down  in  a  flock  on  to  a  man's  garden, 
and  beginning  at  once  to  work  among  the 
leaves  as  if  they  were  feeding. 

The  owner  of  the  garden  knew  they  did  not 


102  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

eat  leaves,  so  he  shot  a  few  and  found  them 
stuffed  with  small  caterpillars.  Then  he  looked 
at  the  plants  and  found  many  more  caterpillars, 
each  in  the  curled-up  end  of  a  leaf.  The  in- 
sects could  not  be  seen,  yet  the  birds,  while  fly- 
ino-  over,  no  doubt  saw  the  curled  leaves  and 

e  ' 

knew  they  were  there. 

Such  eyes  must  be  of  great  use  in  helping 
birds  to  find  their  food,  and  to  avoid  their  ene- 
mies. But  think  what  giants  we  must  look  to 
them  !  It  is  no  wonder  they  are  afraid  of  us. 

Perhaps  even  more  useful  to  a  bird  than  his 
eyes  are  his  ears,  though  they  are  so  nicely  cov- 
ered  up  by  the  feathers  that  we  cannot  see 
them.  The  tufts  of  feathers  that  stand  up  on 
some  owls'  heads,  and  are  called  ears,  are  not 
ears  at  all,  but  merely  decorations,  like  the 
crests  of  some  birds  and  the  long  tail  feathers  of 
others. 

But  because  they  cannot  be  seen,  we  must  not 
think  birds  have  no  ears ;  they  have  very  good 
ones  indeed.  They  can  hear  much  better  than 
we  can. 

Every  one  has  seen  a  robin  run  over  the  grass 
and  turn  his  head  one  side  to  listen.  It  is  sup- 
posed that  he  hears  the  earthworm  move  under 
the  sod,  and  if  he  is  watched,  he  will  often  be 
seen  to  pull  the  worm  from  that  very  spot. 


HIS  EYES  AND  EARS  103 

When  a  woodpecker  taps  on  a  tree  trunk  and 
turns  his  head  to  listen,  it  is  thought  that  he 
hears  the  grub  stir  under  the  bark,  for  when  he 
begins  to  cut  the  bark  away,  he  is  pretty  sure  to 
find  and  draw  it  out. 

Birds  that  are  much  hunted  by  men,  like 
ducks  and  geese,  get  to  be  very  knowing,  and 
show  how  wonderful  is  their  hearing.  They 
can  tell  the  difference  between  a  noise  made  by 
an  animal  and  that  made  by  a  man.  A  deer  or 
any  animal  may  crash  through  the  bushes,  and 
they  pay  no  attention  to  it,  but  if  a  man  makes 
the  least  sound  they  are  off  in  an  instant. 

A  bird's  ears  are  behind  the  eyes,  and  a  little 
below  them.  They  are  covered  by  delicate  fea- 
thers that  hide  them  from  sight.  When  the 
bird  raises  these  feathers  —  perhaps  to  hear  bet- 
ter —  they  look  like  tiny  ear  muffs. 

Owls  have  little  flaps  of  skin  with  which  they 
can  shut  up  their  ears  when  they  wish  to  be 
quiet.  This  must  be  very  useful  to  birds  who 
prefer  to  sleep  during  the  day,  when  nearly 
everybody  else  is  awake  and  making  a  noise. 
Many  of  us  who  live  in  cities  would  like  to  be 
able  to  close  our  ears  sometimes. 

Mr.  Bolles  tells  a  story  about  the  sharp  hear- 
ing of  a  heron.  The  bird  was  on  a  tree  dress- 
ing his  plumage,  and  he  was  hidden  in  some 
bushes  and  could  not  be  seen. 


104  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

Mr.  Bolles  made  all  sorts  of  noises  to  start  up 
the  heron  and  make  him  fly.  First  he  imitated 
animal  sounds.  He  quacked,  and  barked,  and 
mewed,  and  brayed,  and  the  bird  looked  inter- 
ested, but  not  at  all  alarmed.  Then  he  whistled 
and  sang,  and  at  last  talked  plainly,  but  the 
bird  only  looked  over  his  way,  as  if  to  see  what 
new  sort  of  beast  was  hidden  there. 

No  noise  that  he  could  make  startled  the 
heron  in  the  least,  until  a  twig  snapped  under 
his  foot,  when  the  bird  was  off  like  a  shot. 
That  sound  he  well  knew  was  made  by  his  most 
feared  enemy,  man. 


XXIV 


HIS    FEET    AND    LEGS 

A  BIRD  always  stands  on  his  toes,  not  on  his 
whole  foot,  as  we  do.  The  long  slim  part  that 
we  call  the  leg  is  really  the  foot,  and  the  joint 
we  see  nearly  up  to  the  bird's  body  is  the  bird's 
heel.  But  in  this  book  we  will 
speak  of  it  in  the  common  way, 
calling  the  toes  the  foot,  and  the 
part  up  to  the  joint  the  leg. 

People  all  over  the  world  have 
the  same  kind  of  feet 
and  the  same  number 
of  toes ;  but  with  birds 
it  is  not  so.     Most  of 
them   have   four   toes 
(Fig.    8),    but     some 
have  only  three,  and  a  few  have  no  more  than 
two. 

In  the  use  of  the  feet  there  is  still  more 
variety.  There  are,  as  Dr.  Coues  divides  them, 
three  kinds  of  feet  among  birds :  — 


FIG.  8. 
Foot  of  Blackbird. 


106  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

First,  a  foot  that  can  be  used  like  a  hand  to 
clasp  a  perch,  a  "  perching  foot." 

Second,  one  that  is  good  to  use  as  a  foot,  but 
not  at  all  like  a  hand,  called  a  "scratching 
foot." 

Third,  one  that  is  like  neither  hand  nor  foot, 
but  a  paddle,  called  a  "  swimming  foot." 

The  birds  who  have  the  first  kind,  the  "perch- 
ing foot,"  have  usually  three  toes 
turned  forward  and  one  turned 
back.  They  can  grasp  a  branch 
or  a  twig  as  tightly  as  if  with  a 
hand,  as  all  our  common  little 
birds  do.  And  the  large  birds 
of  prey,  such  as  hawks  and  owls 
(Fig.  9),  hold  in  them  live  mice 
and  squirrels  and  the  other  little 
animals  they  eat. 

Some  birds  with  perching  feet  have  the  toes 
placed     another    way.      Woodpeckers 
have    two    turned    forward    and    two 
turned  back,  so  that  they  can  hold  bet- 
ter to  a  tree  trunk  (Fig.  10). 

A  strange  thing  about  the  perching 
toes  is  the  way  they  are  made  to  hold 
on,  so  that  the   birds  can  sleep  on  a 
perch,  and  not  fall.    Inside  the  toes  are  tendons, 
something  like  cords,  which  act  like  elastic  rub* 


LESSER  YELLOWLEGS 


HIS  FEET  AND  LEGS  107 

ber.  When  a  bird  bends  his  leg,  the  toes  are 
drawn  up  and  held  so.  When  he  is  sitting  on  a 
perch,  he  could  not  fall  off  if  he  wanted  to. 

Birds  who  have  the  (t  scratching  foot,"  the 
second  kind,  mostly  go  about  on  the  ground,  or 
wade  in  the  water.  They  do  not  usually  sleep 
on  perches,  but  sleep  standing,  or  crouch  on  the 
ground.  In  the  arctic  regions,  where  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  snow,  some  birds  with  scratching 
feet,  who  have  to  go  about  in  it,  have  in  winter 
what  has  been  called  "  snowshoes,"  because  il 
enables  them  to  walk  on  the  snow  with  ease. 
It  is  a  web-like  growth  on  the  side  of  each  toe, 
which  serves  the  same  purpose  with  birds  that 
snowshoes  do  with  men,  keeps  them  from  sink- 
ing into  the  snow. 

Birds  who  have  the  "  swimming  foot,"  the 
third  kind,  have  the  toes  made  into  a  paddle 
by  webs  stretched  between  them.  They  are  the 
water  birds,  —  ducks,  geese,  gulls,  and  others. 

The  toes  of  all  birds  have  long,  sharp  claws, 
not  at  all  like  our  toe-nails.  In  the  whip-poor- 
will  and  the  nighthawk,  one  edge  of  the  middle 
claw  has  teeth  like  a  comb. 

The  long  slim  part  above  the  toes,  what  we 
call  the  leg,  is  named  in  the  books  the  "  tarsus." 
The  tarsus  is  generally  bare,  with  a  leathery 
skin ;  but  in  some  hawks  and  owls  it  is  covered 


108  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

•with  feathers.  Birds  who  live  away  up  in  the 
cold  have  feathers  down  on  to  the  toes. 

On  looking  carefully  at  one  of  these  bare 
legs,  it  will  be  seen  that  it  is  not  smooth  like  a 
lead  pencil.  It  is  marked  in  a  sort  of  pattern. 
Different  species  of  birds  show  different  patterns. 
Some  look  like  the  shingles  on  a  roof ;  others 
like  little  squares  or  plates ;  and  some  are  finer, 
like  scales  on  a  tiny  fish. 

These  marks  help  in  arranging  birds  in  the 
books.  That  is,  all  who  have  the  same  pattern 
are  said  to  be  related. 

The  legs  of  birds  are  not  all  of  the  same 
length  for  their  size.  Some  who  never  go  about 
on  the  ground,  like  hummingbirds,  swallows, 
and  swifts,  have  very  short  legs.  Birds  who 
walk  and  hop  on  the  ground  have  them  longer, 
and  birds  who  wade  in  the  water  have  the  long- 
est of  all. 


XXV 

HIS   WINGS   AND   TAIL 

A  BIRD'S  wing  does  not  look  much  like  our 
arm  and  hand,  yet  the  bones  show  that  they  are 
the  same.  The  bird  has  a  shoulder,  elbow,  and 
wrist,  as  we  have.  He  even  has  fingers,  though 
they  are  so  covered  up  by  feathers  that  one  would 
never  know  it.  He  has  not  so  many  fingers  as 
we  have,  and  they  are  not  movable  like  ours. 

A  bird's  wing  is  a  wonderful  flying-machine, 
which  men  have  been  trying  to  imitate  these 
many  years.  It  is  made  of  long  stiff  feathers, 
which  fold  down  smoothly  over  one  another  at 
his  side  when  he  is  resting,  but  can  spread  in  an 
instant  into  a  broad  fan,  to  beat  the  air  and 
carry  him  away. 

One  would  not  think  that  feathers  could  have 
so  much  power ;  but  when  the  wing  is  spread,  the 
barbs  of  the  feathers  hook  together  with  tiny 
hooks,  so  small  a  microscope  is  needed  to  see 
them  ;  and  that,  together  with  the  edges  lapping 
over  each  other,  makes  them  almost  like  one 
solid  surface. 


110 


HOW  HE  IS  MADE 


Wings  are  not  alike  in  shape.  The  wing  of 
a  swallow  is  long  and  narrow,  while  that  of  a 
hen  or  grouse  is  short  and  round.  We  can  tell 
by  the  shape  of  a  wing  how  a  bird  flies. 

A  long,  narrow,  pointed  wing  shows  that  the 


FIG.  11. 

Wing  of  Swift. 

bird  has  an  easy,  skimming  flight,  —  either  he 

flies  great  distances,  or  spends  hours  at  a  time 

on  wing  (Fig.  11). 

The  short  round  wing  (Fig.  12)  shows  that 

a  bird  has  a  strong  flight  for  short  distances. 
These  wings  are 
found  mostly  on 
rather  heavy  birds, 
like  grouse. 

The  longest  wings 
are  seen  on  water 
birds,  such  as  thr 

petrel  and  the  frigate-bird.     The  shortest,  also. 

are  found  among  water  birds,  those  who  swim 

more  than  they  fly,  as  the  auks. 

All  the  feathers  of  the  wing  are  named,  and 


FIG.  12. 
Wing  of  Sparrow. 


HIS  WINGS  AND  TAIL 


111 


it  will  be  well  to  remember  that  the  long  stiff 
quills  are  called  remiges  or  "rowers."  These  are 
firmly  rooted  in  the  flesh,  and  are  the  hardest 
to  pull  out.  They  are  the  most  important  to 
the  safety  of  the  bird. 

Birds  have  also  another  use  for  their  wings. 
They  are  a  strong  weapon  to  defend  themselves, 
or  to  fight  others.  A 


large 

severe 

wing, 


bird  can  give  a 
blow    with    his 


and    when 


pi- 


geons fight,  it  is  said 
they  hold  up  one  wing 
to  protect  themselves 
while  they  strike  at  the 
enemy  with  the  other. 

Sometimes  wings 
serve  as  musical  instru- 
ments. Woodcocks 
make  whistling  sounds 
with  their  wings  as  they 
fly,  and  mourning  doves 
softly  murmuring  ones.  Ruffed  grouse  produce 
with  theirs  a  rolling  drum-like  effect,  and  other? 
rattle  theirs  like  castanets. 

If  wings  are  not  used,  they  slowly  get  to  be 
smaller  and  weaker,  each  generation  having  them 
more  and  more  useless,  till  after  a  while  they  are 


FIG.  13.' 
TaU  of  Ruffed  Grouse. 


112 


HOW  HE  IS  MADE 


of  no  use  whatever,  and  the  birds  cannot  fly 
at  all.  This  has  happened,  it  is  supposed,  to 
the  ostrich  family  and  to  some 
birds  living  in  the  sea. 

The  tail  of  a  bird  is  formed  of 
an  equal  number  of  feathers  in 
pairs,  most  often  twelve.  When 
spread  they  are  the  shape  of  a 
fan  (Fig.  13),  and  when  closed  they  lie  over 
each  other  with  the  middle  pair  on  top. 

The  tail  feathers  are  not  always  of  the  same 
length,  and  that  makes  a  difference  in  the  shape 
of  the  end.  Sometimes  they  are  even  (like  Fig. 


FIG.  15. 
TaU  of  Swallow-tailed  Kite. 


14),  when  the  tail  is  said  to  be  "square." 
Sometimes  the  middle  feathers  are  a  little  longer 
than  the  outside  ones,  and  then  it  is  "  rounded  " 


HIS  WINGS  AND  TAIL  113 

or  "  pointed."     If  the  outside  feathers  are  long- 
est, the  tail  is  "  forked  "  (Fig.  15). 

The  feathers  of  the  tail  are  called  rectrices, 
or  "  rudders,"  because  they  are  supposed  to  be 
used  to  steer,  or  direct  the  bird's  course  in  fly- 
ing. But  the  tail  is  used  also  as  a  brake  to 
check  the  speed  in  alighting. 

The  tail  is  used  more  than  any  other  organ 
to  express  the  emotions. 
Some  birds,  like  the  cat- 
bird and  thrasher,  keep  it 
moving  nearly  all  the  time, 
jerking  it  this  way  and  that, 
and  tossing  it  upward. 

In  woodpeckers  and  swifts  the  tail  feathers 
are  not  soft  at  the  end  like  others,  but  the  stems 
or  shafts  project  beyond  the  feathery  part,  and 
are  stiff  like  the  tail  of  a  sapsucker  (Fig.  16) 
or  sharp  like  this  of  the  chimney  swift  (Fig. 
17).  These  birds  use  the  tail  as 
a  prop  to  hold  them  against  the 
tree  trunk  or  chimney  wall,  and 
to  help  them  in  climbing. 

Tail     feathers    are     not     so 
strongly  rooted  as  wing  feathers, 
and  are  easily  pulled  out.     Sometimes,  when  a 
man  or  boy  tries  to  catch  a  bird  by  the  tail,  the 
bird  will  escape,  leaving  the  tail  in  his  hand. 


XXVI 

HIS    DRESS 

A  BIRD'S  whole  dress  is  made  of  feathers,  but 
the  feathers  are  not  all  alike.  There  are,  indeed, 
several  kinds  of  feathers,  and  four  of  them  are 
found  on  every  bird.  There  are  flight  feathers, 
clothing  feathers,  downy  feathers,  thread  feathers, 
and  powder-down  feathers. 

Feathers  of  all  kinds  are  made  in  the  same 
way.  All  have,  first,  a  quill,  the  horny  part  next 
to  the  body ;  second,  a  shaft,  the  white  part  on 
which  the  barbs  grow ;  third,  the  barbs,  which 
grow  out  on  each  side  of  the  shaft,  and  together 
are  called  the  vane  ;  fourth,  the  barbules,  or  little 
barbs,  growing  out  of  the  barbs ;  and  last,  the 
barbicels,  which  grow  on  the  barbules,  and  on 
the  wings  have  the  tiny  hooks  which  hold  them 
together. 

But  though  feathers  are  made  on  the  same 
pattern,  they  look  very  different.  The  wing  and 
tail  feathers  are  stiff  and  strong,  and  are  called 
flight  feathers,  but  those  on  the  breast  and  body 


CATBIRD 


HIS  DRESS  115 

are  called  soft,  and  cling  closely  to  keep  the  bird 
warm  and  dry.  These  are  called  the  clothing 
feathers,  because  they  clothe  the  bird. 

Down  feathers,  which  are  almost  always  hid- 
den under  the  clothing  feathers,  are,  like  their 
name,  downy,  and  answer  to  our  under-clothes. 

Thread  feathers  grow  among  the  clothing 
feathers,  and  are  almost  like  hairs.  It  is  these 
that  the  cook  singes  off  the  fowls. 

Kingfishers  who  dive,  and  ducks  who  spend 
much  time  on  the  water,  have  very  thick  down 
under  the  feathers  —  like  suits  of  very  warm 
under-clothes  —  which  keeps  the  water  away 
from  their  bodies.  Thus  they  can  dive,  or  sit  on 
the  water  hours  at  a  time,  and  not  feel  wet  at  all. 

Powder-down  feathers  grow  on  some  herons 
and  cockatoos.  They  are  called  by  that  name 
because  the  tip  ends  are  continually  breaking  off 
like  white  dust.  Nobody  knows  their  use. 

Different  from  all  these  are  the  feathers  called 
plumes,  like  the  long,  soft  ostrich  plumes  we  all 
know ;  the  dainty  little  ones  that  stand  straight 
up,  and  look  as  if  the  wind  would  blow  them 
away ;  the  long,  showy  feathers  that  the  peacock 
spreads  with  so  much  pride,  or  even  the  pretty, 
drooping  ones  in  the  cock's  tail. 

These  feathers  are  of  no  use  for  flight  or  for 
warmth,  they  rather  hinder  than  help.  They  are 


116  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

for  ornament,  and  there  are  many  kinds  among 
birds,  all  exquisitely  beautiful.  Nature  has  given 
to  birds  a  more  wonderful  dress  than  to  any 
other  living  creature. 

It  is  with  his  feathers  that  a  bird  expresses  his 
:2eelings.  In  anger  he  fluffs  them  out  till  he 
looks  twice  as  big  as  usual ;  we  have  all  seen  a 
hen  bristle  up  when  a  dog  comes  near  her  brood. 

Nervousness  or  excitement  is  shown  by  jerk- 
ing the  wings  and  tail,  and  if  a  bird  wishes  to 
escape  notice,  he  can  make  his  plumage  a  perfect 
disguise.  Mr.  Bolles's  pet  owl  would  stretch 
himself  up  long  and  slim,  with  feathers  hugging 
his  body,  when  he  looked  so  much  like  a  broken 
branch  of  a  tree  that  Mr.  Bolles  could  hardly 
see  him.  And  another  owl  that  I  heard  of,  when 
he  was  on  the  ground,  would  flatten  himself  and 
spread  his  plumage  around,  so  that  the  eye  could 
scarcely  separate  him  from  the  dead  leaves  about 
him. 

No  one  takes  better  care  of  his  dress  than  a 
bird,  and  that  is  why  it  looks  well  for  a  year. 
Every  day,  with  most  birds,  it  is  washed  and  care- 
fully dried,  each  feather  being  passed  through 
the  bill,  and  the  whole  thoroughly  shaken  out. 
At  night  one  may  often  see  robins  and  catbirds 
before  going  to  bed,  dressing  their  plumage 
and  shaking  off  the  day's  dust. 


HIS  DRESS  117 

Besides  washing  and  drying  the  feathers,  birds 
need  oil  to  keep  them  in  best  condition.  For 
this  purpose  they  have  a  little  "  oil  jug,"  a  small 
gland  over  the  tail,  out  of  which,  with  the  bill, 
they  can  squeeze  a  drop  of  oil.  We  often  see 
ducks  and  geese  oiling  their  feathers  before  a 
rain. 

Water  birds,  who  need  a  great  deal  of  oil  to 
keep  out  the  wet,  have  the  oil  jug  very  large. 

Birds  seem  to  know  perfectly  well  the  beauty 
of  their  plumage.  Not  only  do  they  try  to  show 
it  off,  as  the  peacock  when  he  spreads  his  tail, 
but  they  seem  to  fe'el  shame  when  their  feathers 
are  injured  or  soiled.  One  white  feather  coming 
in  where  it  does  not  belong  will  make  a  bird 
very  unhappy.  He  will  work  and  tug  at  it  to 
pull  it  out,  and  often  make  himself  actually  ill 
over  the  trouble.  I  had  a  captive  bird  who 
died,  I  think,  from  worry  and  work  over  a  wing 
feather  which  persisted  in  coming  in  white,  and 
which  he  insisted  on  pulling  out  every  time. 


xxvn 

DIFFERENT    COLORED    SUITS 

A  BIRD  does  not  always  wear  the  same  colored 
dress,  as  I  said  in  the  chapter  on  moulting.  A 
goldfinch,  who  through  the  summer  wears  a  gay 
yellow  coat,  comes  out  in  the  fall  in  plain  olive 
and  black;  and  the  scarlet  tanager,  who  flour- 
ishes in  the  most  brilliant  red,  changes  to  a  quiet 
green  in  winter.  Besides  these,  some  birds  wear 
at  one  season  a  spotted  coat,  and  come  out  after- 
wards in  one  of  plain  colors. 

Most  of  them  change  by  moulting,  as  I  ex- 
plained, the  old  feathers  dropping  out  and  new 
ones  of  another  color  coming  in ;  or,  to  speak 
exactly,  the  new  ones  growing  out  and  pushing 
the  old  ones  off  on  their  tips.  But  some  change 
color  without  moulting.  All  birds  moult  com- 
pletely in  the  autumn,  many  moult  partially  in 
the  spring,  and  some,  as  I  said,  change  without 
moulting. 

This  last  change  of  color  is  made  partly  by 
fading,  and  partly  by  breaking  off  the  tips  of  the 


DIFFERENT  COLORED  SUITS  119 

feathers,  or  what  is  called  "  abrasion."  This  is  a 
curious  process.  I  told  you  something  about  it 
in  chapter  vii.  Certain  feathers  have  edges  dif- 
ferent in  color  from  the  rest ;  as,  for  example, 
a  black  feather  with  tips  of  yellow.  While  the 
feathers  are  new  and  perfect,  as  they  He  over 
each  other  like  shingles  on  a  roof,  only  the  edges 
show,  and  these  being  yellow,  the  bird  appears 
to  be  dressed  in  yellow.  But  the  yellow  tips  are 
not  so  strong  as  the  rest,  and  they  break  or  wear 
off,  or  are  pulled  off  in  the  spring.  What  is 
strange,  they  break  exactly  where  the  black 
begins.  So  as  soon  as  the  yellow  is  off,  the  black 
shows,  and  behold,  the  yellow  bird  suddenly 
becomes  a  black  bird. 

That  is  the  way  some  birds  manage  to  put  on 
their  spring  dress  in  the  fall.  The  solid  color  is 
the  color  of  the  spring,  but  it  is  hidden  or  veiled 
by  tips  of  another  color  for  winter. 

The  meadowlark  changes  in  this  way.  In  the 
winter  his  coat  is  brownish,  or  buff.  In  the 
spring  these  tips  are  worn  or  broken  off,  and  he 
comes  out  in  yellow  and  black. 

Another  change,  even  more  curious,  is  made 
by  some  birds,  who  all  winter  wear  white  spots, 
or  light  scolloped  edges  to  their  feathers,  and 
in  spring  the  spots  are  gone. 

In  these,  the  white  or  light  parts  only  break 


120  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

off,  as  sharply  as  if  cut  with  scissors.  They  leave 
the  edges  of  the  feathers  notched  in  queer  ways, 
but  as  they  lie  over  each  other  that  does  not 
show. 

Birds  in  this  way  can  change  color  without 
changing  their  feathers.  While  moulting  but 
once  a  year,  they  can  show  two  suits,  and  by 
partially  moulting  twice,  can  show  three  suits. 

Another  thing  about  the  color  of  feathers  is 
interesting.  Some  colors,  such  as  black,  and  red, 
and  brown,  are  caused  by  coloring  matter  in  the 
feather.  But  other  colors  are  only  an  effect  of 
the  way  the  feather  is  made,  whether  it  has 
ridges  on  it,  or  certain  minute  specks  under  the 
surface,  which  seem  to  act  as  prisms  (says  Dr. 
Newton),  and  reflect  the  light  in  different  colors. 

For  instance,  green  is  always  due  to  some 
shade  of  yellow  coloring  matter  under  a  surface 
full  of  lengthwise  ridges,  and  other  colors  are 
made  in  similar  ways. 

These  curious  facts  have  been  found  out  by 
that  tell-tale  little  instrument  the  microscope,  and 
no  doubt  it  will  reveal  many  more  secrets  in  time. 

Color  is  useful  to  birds,  as  well  as  beautiful. 
Its  great  use  is  to  conceal  them  from  their  ene- 
mies, and  they  show  that  they  know  this  by  their 
conduct. 

When  a  bird  is  of  the  color  of  dead  leaves,  or 


AMERICAN   ROBIN 


<?r 


>*9-t   *fll    <*, 


DIFFERENT  COLORED  SUITS  121 

the  sand,  he  has  only  to  flatten  himself  and  keep 
still,  and  he  is  hidden.  Such  a  bird  on  the  nest 
•will  often  let  one  come  close,  and  even  stroke 
her,  while  relying  on  her  color  to  be  unseen.  A 
sitting  ruffed  grouse  will  do  so.  But  if  snow 
falls,  the  same  bird  is  very  wild,  for  she  knows 
she  can  be  seen  in  the  snow. 

I  have  seen  a  striped  bird,  —  black  and  white 
warbler,  —  when  frightened,  flatten  himself  on  a 
branch,  where  he  looked  so  much  like  the  bark 
that  he  could  not  be  seen. 

Ground  birds  are  mostly  in  mottled  colors  of 
the  ground.  The  whip-poor-will,  whose  habit  it 
is  to  rest  on  a  log  all  day,  wears  colors  that  hide 
him  as  well  as  if  he  were  under  the  log. 

The  striking  colors  on  a  bird  are  often  hidden 
when  he  is  at  rest,  but  show  plainly  when  he 
flies.  When  a  flicker  stands  quietly  on  a  fence 
he  is  all  in  rather  dull  colors,  but  when  he  flies 
he  shows  a  large  snow-white  spot  on  his  back,  so 
that  as  far  as  one  can  see  him  he  may  be  known. 
A  meadowlark  on  the  ground  looks  not  unlike 
a  flicker,  but  when  he  flies  he  shows  that  the 
outside  feathers  of  his  tail  are  white.  This  is  as 
striking  a  mark  as  the  white  spot  on  the  flicker. 

Many  birds  have  such  markings,  and  it  is 
thought  by  men  who  study  birds  and  look  for 
a  use  in  everything,  that  such  marks  serve  the 


122  HOW  HE  IS  MADE 

purpose  of  "  danger  signals  "or  "  recognition 
marks."  That  by  these  birds  can  know  each 
other  in  the  dusk,  or  that  the  flash  of  color  will 
catch  the  eye,  when  the  bird  does  not  wish  to 
give  a  call,  but  to  slip  away  quietly  to  avoid 
danger,  and  at  the  same  time  to  give  notice  to 
other  birds  to  do  the  same. 


HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 


xxvm 

HOW    HE   WORKS    FOR    US 

MANY  times  in  this  book  I  have  spoken  of  the 
great  value  of  the  services  of  birds,  in  helping  us 
destroy  insects  and  weeds  that  injure  our  crops. 
But  there  is  more  to  be  said  about  it. 

From  morning  till  night,  almost  the  whole  of 
his  life,  nearly  every  bird  is  working  for  us.  He 
does  not  know  he  is  working  for  us,  of  course. 
He  is  simply  hunting  for  the  food  he  likes,  and 
what  is  good  for  young  birds  to  eat. 

But  what  he  chooses  to  eat  himself,  and  to 
feed  the  young,  consists  mostly  of  creatures  that 
destroy  our  fruit  and  vegetables,  caterpillars  that 
eat  the  leaves  off  our  trees,  worms  that  get  into 
our  apples  and  berries,  beetles  that  spoil  our 
roses  and  our  potatoes,  mice  that  eat  our  crops, 
and  all  the  worms  and  grubs  that  gardeners  and 
farmers  are  all  the  time  fighting. 

As  I  have  already  said,  some  of  the  birds  like 
cherries  and  green  peas,  and  other  things  we 
prefer  to  keep  for  ourselves.  But  we  should 


126  HIS  RELATIONS  WITH   US 

never  forget  that  they  have  earned,  by  their 
work  among  the  worms,  all  they  can  take. 

I  say  this,  not  merely  because  I  love  the  birds, 
and  want  to  have  them  live  and  be  happy,  but 
because  it  is  true.  It  has  been  proved  true  by 
scientific  men  in  the  service  of  the  United  States 
government. 

These  men  have  had  thousands  of  birds  killed 
to  see  what  they  were  eating,  and  have  found 
out  that  nearly  all  the  birds  they  have  exam- 
ined —  blackbirds,  cedar-birds,  blue  jays,  hawks, 
owls,  even  crows  —  do  us  more  good  by  the  in- 
jurious creatures  they  destroy,  than  harm  by  the 
fruits  and  vegetables  they  eat.  To  this  there 
is,  among  the  small  birds,  but  one  exception,  the 
English  sparrow,  and,  of  the  large  ones,  only  the 
two  hawks  and  one  owl,  mentioned  on  page  53. 

Chickadees  like  to  eat  the  eggs  of  canker- 
worms  ;  and  for  a  single  meal,  one  of  these  tiny 
birds  will  eat  two  hundred  and  fifty  eggs,  and 
he  will  take  several  meals  a  day.  Now  canker- 
worms  destroy  our  apples.  When  they  get  into 
an  orchard  in  force,  it  looks,  as  Miss  Merriam 
says,  as  if  it  had  been  burned  over. 

Robins,  catbirds,  and  shrikes,  and  several  oth- 
ers, like  to  eat  cutworms,  which  destroy  grass 
and  other  plants.  As  many  as  three  hundred  of 
them  have  been  found  in  the  stomach  of  one 


BLACK-CAPPED  CHICKADEES 


HOW  HE  WORKS  FOR  US  127 

robin,  of  course  for  one  meal.  Ants  are  very 
troublesome  in  many  ways,  and  three  thousand 
of  them  have  been  taken  from  the  stomach  of 
one  flicker. 

Rats  and  mice,  ground  squirrels  and  gophers, 
make  great  havoc  in  our  crops,  and  farmers 
spend  much  time  and  labor  trying  to  get  rid  of 
them ;  but  these  creatures  are.  the  favorite  food 
of  most  hawks  and  owls. 

If  the  farmer  would  stop  shooting  the  birds, 
and  protect  them  instead,  they  would  do  this 
work  for  him,  and  much  better  than  he  can. 
But  because  (as  I  said  in  a  former  chapter)  one 
or  two  hawks  and  owls  have  a  taste  for  chickens, 
he  generally  kills  every  hawk  and  owl  he  sees, 
and  for  this  folly  has  to  spend  half  his  time  try- 
ing to  kill  the  little  animals  they  would  gladly 
have  eaten. 

A  great  deal  of  refuse,  dead  sea  creatures, 
and  other  matter,  is  thrown  up  on  the  seashore, 
or  floats  on  the  water.  On  this  feed  the  water 
birds,  —  herons,  gulls,  terns,  and  others.  If  this 
were  not  disposed  of,  it  would  make  us  sick. 
Indeed,  on  the  shores  where  so  many  herons  have 
been  killed,  to  get  their  plumes  for  ladies'  hats, 
the  result  has  been  sickness  and  death  among 
the  people,  as  Dr.  Gaumer,  of  Yucatan,  told  Mr, 
Chapman. 


128  HIS  RELATIONS   WITH   US 

Besides  the  work  they  do  for  us  in  destroying 
animal  life,  their  seed-eating  is  almost  as  useful. 
As  I  said,  they  eat  the  seeds  of  weeds  that 
farmers  and  gardeners  are  all  the  time  laboring 
to  keep  down,  so  that  useful  plants  may  have 
a  chance  to  grow. 

The  whole  family  of  finches,  sparrows,  bunt- 
ings, grosbeaks,  and  all  birds  with  the  high, 
thick  bill,  though  they  eat  largely  of  insects 
through  the  summer,  and  feed  their  nestlings  on 
them,  when  insects  get  scarce  and  weed  seeds 
are  ripe,  turn  to  the  latter  for  food.  They  eat 
the  seeds  of  all  kinds  of  troublesome  weeds  ;  and 
as  each  single  seed  might  produce  a  plant,  we 
cannot  guess  how  much  they  destroy. 

Professor  Beal,  who  is  at  the  head  of  this  gov- 
ernment inquiry  into  the  food  of  birds,  and  who 
knows  what  he  is  talking  about,  says  that  one 
species  of  little  bird  —  the  tree  sparrow  —  de- 
stroys every  year  in  one  of  the  Western  States, 
many  tons  of  the  seeds  of  weeds. 

There  is  a  curious  and  interesting  fact  about 
this  seed-eating.  The  regular  seed-eaters,  the 
finches,  prefer  the  seeds  of  certain  weeds,  most 
of  them  harmful;  these  they  break  up,  taking 
off  the  shells,  and  of  course  destroying  the  germ, 
making  it  impossible  for  them  to  grow. 

But  there  are  many  birds  who  eat  berries  hav- 


HOW  HE  WORKS  FOR  US  129 

ing  in  them  seeds,  such  as  raspberries,  blackber- 
ries, and  all  kinds  of  wild  fruit.  These  birds  do 
not  crack  the  seeds  ;  and,  as  they  are  hard,  they 
do  not  digest  in  the  stomach,  but  are  dropped 
whole,  and  are  ready  to  grow  wherever  they 
fall. 

Thus,  while  seed-eating  birds  destroy  the  weeds 
which  are  hurtful,  the  fruit-eaters  plant  the  seeds 
of  berries  and  fruit  which  we  like.  That  is  why 
we  find  wild  berry  bushes  all  over  the  country. 
We  have  to  thank  the  birds  for  it. 

A  great  deal  more  could  be  said  about  the 
birds'  work  for  us,  not  only  of  the  robins  and 
those  I  have  spoken  of,  but  cedar-birds,  who 
are  shot  because  they  take  part  of  our  cherries, 
blackbirds,  because  they  eat  some  grain,  ori- 
oles, because  they  occasionally  take  green  peas, 
and  kingbirds,  because  they  have  the  name  of 
eating  bees,  though  it  has  been  proved  that  they 
eat  only  drones,  which  have  no  sting  and  make 
no  honey. 

Let  me  impress  upon  you  two  facts.  First, 
the  stories  of  the  harm  done  by  birds  are  often 
mere  guesswork,  from  careless  observation.  For 
instance,  a  man  seeing  a  bird  going  over  his 
blossoming  fruit-trees,  at  once  concludes  he  is 
destroying  the  fruit,  probably  shoots  him,  and 
then  writes  to  his  favorite  paper  that  a  certain 


130  HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 

bird  eats  fruit  buds.  Other  papers  copy  it,  and 
a  war  against  that  bird  begins  in  every  orchard. 

Whereas,  the  truth  is,  the  bird  was  preserving 
the  fruit  by  picking  out  the  insects  that  would 
have  spoiled  it.  This  is  no  fancy  picture ;  this 
very  thing  has  happened  more  than  once. 

And  again,  whatever  is  said  about  the  harm 
this  or  that  bird  does,  never  forget  this  second 
fact,  which  I  repeat,  and  which  may  be  relied 
upon  as  perfectly  trustworthy.  The  officers  of 
the  government  of  the  United  States,  who  have 
carefully  studied  the  matter  and  found  out  posi- 
tively, without  guesswork,  what  birds  eat,  have 
declared  emphatically  that  every  bird  they  have 
examined  does  more  good  by  destroying  pests, 
than  harm  to  our  crops,  excepting  only  the  bird 
we  have  imported,  —  the  English  or  house  spar 
row. 


XXIX 

HOW   TO   ATTRACT    HIM    ABOUT    OUR    HOMES 

BECAUSE  birds  are  so  useful  to  us,  as  well  as 
because  they  are  so  interesting  and  so  beautiful, 
it  is  delightful  to  have  them  come  about  our 
homes.  And  it  is  not  at  all  difficult,  for  they 
are  easily  taught  to  like  us. 

In  countries  where  people  are  gentle,  and  try 
to  make  birds  happy,  instead  of  shooting  them 
or  throwing  stones  at  them,  they  become  very 
tame.  Mr.  Hearn,  who  has  written  about  Japan, 
says  that  the  fearlessness  of  wild  creatures  is  one 
of  the  most  charming  things  about  the  remote 
parts  of  Japan,  "  where  tourists  with  shotguns 
have  not  yet  come." 

Travelers  who  visit  Norway  tell  us  that  birds 
are  never  disturbed  there,  and  they  come  freely 
about  the  houses.  When  it  is  very  cold  they 
even  come  into  the  houses  for  food  and  warmth, 
and  no  one  thinks  of  frightening  them  or  trying 
to  catch  them. 

Even  in  our  own  country,  Dr.  Ridgway  told 


132  HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 

me  of  a  bird-lover  in  Florida  who  would  not  let 
birds  be  annoyed  on  his  place.  As  a  result  he 
had  a  great  many  there,  and  they  became  very 
tame.  Cardinal  grosbeaks,  who  are  rather  shy, 
were  so  tame  they  would  take  food  from  his 
hand. 

A  person  living  in  the  country,  wishing  to 
draw  the  birds  about  his  place,  should  begin  by 
protecting  it.  Cats  should  not,  be  allowed  to 
come  near,  English  sparrows  should  be  kept 
down,  and  boys  who  shoot  or  throw  stones  should 
be  banished  from  the  vicinity. 

Next,  trees  and  shrubs  that  birds  like,  for 
nesting  and  for  food,  should  be  set  out.  For 
nesting,  a  very  attractive  place  for  the  smaller 
species  is  a  thick  hedge  of  bushes,  the  thicker 
and  closer  the  better. 

Nesting-boxes  nailed  up  in  trees  please  many, 
and  evergreen  trees  will  draw, some  that  would 
not  come  otherwise.  For  food,  various  berry- 
bearing  shrubs  and  trees  should  be  provided, 
such  as  chokecherry,  shadberry,  mulberry,  and 
others. 

In  a  town  or  city,  besides  shrubs  that  birds 
like,  a  high  fence,  with  a  top  that  cats  cannot 
walk  on,  is  desirable,  and  a  readiness  to  go  to 
their  assistance  is  soon  appreciated. 

A  friend  told  me  a  few  days  ago  of  a  family 


HOW  TO  ATTRACT  HIM  ABOUT  OUR  HOMES    133 

of  wood  thrushes  who  nested  last  summer  in  the 
yard  of  her  house  in  the  city  of  Orange,  N.  J. 
The  birds  soon  found  out  that  some  of  the  fam- 
ily would  come  to  drive  away  strange  cats  which 
came  in.  After  they  learned  that,  when  a  cat 
appeared  they  would  give  a  peculiar  cry,  unlike 
any  other  heard  from  them.  On  hearing  this, 
one  of  the  family  always  hurried  out  and  drove 
the  enemy  away. 

If  the  birds  could  not  get  any  response  from 
a  call  at  the  kitchen  door,  they  would  fly  to  the 
front  of  the  house,  perch  on  the  piazza  rail,  and 
call  till  some  one  came  out.  All  through  nesting- 
time  they  thus  called  on  their  friends  for  protec- 
tion, and  the  delight  the  family  had  over  the 
nest  and  the  friendly  birds  amply  repaid  them 
for  their  trouble. 

The  one  great  necessity,  in  both  city  and 
country,  is  water  for  drinking  and  bathing.  It 
should  be  in  a  shallow  dish.  The  rough  saucer 
of  a  flower-pot  is  best,  because  the  bird's  feet 
do  not  slip  on  it,  and  the  edge  is  broad  and  round 
and  easy  to  perch  on. 

Next  best  is  an  earthen  dish,  with  cleai 
pebbles  in  the  bottom,  to  prevent  slipping,  whidL 
frightens  them.  Water  should  never  be  more 
than  two  inches  deep,  but  should  always  be  clean, 
and  fresh  two  or  three  times  a  day. 


134  HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 

No  food  should  be  offered  in  summer,  be- 
cause we  want  them  to  get  their  natural  food  of 
worms  and  seeds. 

In  the  winter  it  is  different.  They  should 
have  food  regularly.  But  once  used  to  having 
their  wants  supplied,  they  will  depend  upon  it, 
and  suffer  and  probably  starve,  if  they  are  neg- 
lected or  forgotten.  So  one  should  be  very 
sure  he  will  not  get  tired  of  it,  before  he  teaches 
them  to  expect  food. 

To  feed  them  safely,  a  shelf  must  be  placed 
out  of  the  reach  of  cats  and  bad  boys.  On  the 
sill  of  a  window  is  a  good  place,  or  the  roof  of 
a  piazza,  or  a  little  balcony.  Breakfast  should 
be  served  to  them  at  the  same  hour  every  day, 
and  they  will  soon  know  when  to  come  for  it. 

For  food,  they  will  eat  any  table  scraps  of 
meat,  and  vegetables,  and  bread,  chopped  fine, 
and  most  kinds  of  grain,  broken  up,  or  crushed, 
for  the  smaller  birds. 

But  the  thing  they  all  like  best  of  everything 
is  raw  suet,  as  it  comes  from  the  butcher.  A 
large  piece  may  be  wired  or  nailed  in  place,  so 
that  it  may  be  picked  at  and  not  displaced,  or  it 
may  be  chopped  fine  and  scattered  on  the  shelf, 
like  other  food.  All  birds  are  fond  of  this. 

In  winter  they  need  water,  and  it  should  then, 
also,  be  fresh. 


HOW  TO  ATTRACT  HIM  ABOUT  OUR  HOMES    135 

A  lady  living  in  southern  Ohio,  who  has  for 
several  years  given  a  breakfast  to  the  birds 
every  day  in  winter,  told  me  that  her  daily 
guests  last  season  were  hairy  and  downy  wood- 
peckers, nuthatches,  white  and  red-breasted,  one 
young  kinglet,  a  pair  of  chickadees,  tufted  tit- 
mice, blue  jays,  juncos,  cardinal  grosbeaks,  Caro- 
lina wrens,  and  sparrows. 

This  delightful  company  came  regularly  for 
breakfast,  and  to  pay  her,  sang  nearly  through 
the  season. 

In  the  latitude  of  New  York  there  are  about 
forty  birds  who  spend  the  winter,  and  of  course 
there  are  more  as  one  goes  south.  In  the 
Southern  States,  many  of  our  northern  birds 
may  be  studied  in  the  winter. 


XXX 

HOW    TO    STUDY    HIM 

AN  attractive  thing  about  bird  study  is  the 
fact  that  there  is  still  so  much  to  be  found  out. 

Men  have  been  studying  the  dead  bird  for 
many  years.  All  about  the  body  is  well  known. 
The  way  he  is  made,  the  arrangement  of  his 
bones  and  his  organs,  are  plainly  set  forth  in 
the  books,  in  words  and  pictures. 

The  shape  and  colors  of  his  plumage,  how 
many  feathers  belong  to  his  wing  and  tail,  his 
length,  his  extent,  the  shape  of  his  beak  and 
his  foot,  —  all  these  facts  are  to  be  found  in 
every  Ornithology. 

Some  of  his  most  easily  noted  habits,  too,  are 
familiar;  where  and  when  he  nests,  where  he 
spends  his  time,  and  where  he  goes  in  the  winter, 
what  he  eats,  and  when  he  changes  his  dress. 

But  really  to  know  the  living  bird,  to  make 
acquaintance  with  the  individual,  to  see  his  fam- 
ily life,  his  manners,  his  intelligence,  his  powers, 
—  this  kind  of  study  has  hardly  begun. 


'   HOW  TO  STUDY  HIM  137 

This  almost  new  and  most  attractive  field  is 
open  to  us  to-day.  It  offers  a  charming  study, 
with  the  added  interest  of  discoveries  to  be 
made.  Nor  is  it  so  hard  as  most  persons  think. 

In  the  beginning  there  are  two  things  to 
learn  :  first,  how  to  study  from  life  ;  and  second, 
how  to  identify  without  killing.  To  study  is 
simply  to  observe  closely  and  carefully,  and  to 
report  accurately. 

Take  a  little  lesson  in  observing :  When  you 
see  a  bird  do  not  merely  gaze  idly  at  him,  but 
take  note  of  everything  about  him.  What  he 
is  doing,  how  he  is  doing  it,  and  all  his  points, 
his  size  and  shape,  his  colors  and  markings. 

If  he  is  getting  food,  as  he  most  often  is, 
see  whether  he  picks  it  from  the  tree  trunk  or 
gathers  it  from  grass  tops ;  whether  he  hunts  it 
among  leaves,  bores  the  bark,  drops  to  the 
ground,  or  sails  out  into  the  air  for  it. 

Then  try  to  discover  what  it  is  —  insect  or 
seed,  beetle,  grub,  or  worm  —  and  what  he  does 
with  it,  —  swallow  it  at  once,  beat  it  tp  death,  or 
hold  it  in  his  mouth  uneaten. 

Then  notice  his  manners,  —  if  he  stands  still, 
or  jerks  his  tail  or  body ;  if  he  flits  about  the 
branches,  hovers  before  a  flower,  or  hammers  at 
the  door  of  an  unlucky  grub  behind  the  bark. 
Next,  does  he  walk  or  hop  ?  does  he  chatter  01 


138  HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 

keep  silent?  fly  straight,  or  go  bounding  in 
great  waves  through  the  air  ?  All  these  things 
you  must  learn  to  see,  and  to  note  down  the  mo- 
ment you  do  so,  so  that  you  will  not  be  uncer- 
tain or  confused  when  you  take  your  books  to 
see  who  he  is. 

Then  you  must  take  note  of  his  size,  and  to 
do  this  —  as  it  is  hard  to  judge  of  inches  —  it  is 
well  to  have  in  mind  a  sort  of  index  of  size 
to  which  you  can  compare  him.  Take  the  most 
common  and  best-known  birds  for  standards,  the 
robin,  the  English  sparrow,  and  one  smaller,  — 
the  wren,  or  the  "  chebec  "  (least  flycatcher). 
When  you  see  a  bird,  if  he  is  as  big  as  a  robin, 
enter  in  your  note :  "  Size,  robin."  Should  he 
be  a  little  smaller,  yet  still  larger  than  your 
measure,  —  the  English  sparrow,  —  you  can 
note  it,  "  Size,  robin  — ,"  the  minus  sign  mean- 
ing that  it  is  less.  If  he  were  larger,  you  would 
put  the  plus  sign  :  "Size,  robin  +." 

Observe  the  shape,  whether  it  is  slim  like  an 
oriole,  or  chunky  like  a  chickadee  ;  also  any 
peculiarity  of  plumage,  as  a  crest,  specially  long 
or  strangely  formed  tail  feathers;  the  end  of 
the  tail,  whether  square,  rounded,  pointed,  or 
notched. 

Then  notice  the  beak ;  its  length  compared  to 
the  head,  its  shape  and  color.  If  it  is  high  and 


HOW  TO  STUDY  HIM 


139 


FIG.  18. 
Canadian  Warbler. 


thick,  like  a  canary's  or  spar- 
row's, the  bird  is  a  seed- 
eater  ;  if  long  and  straight, 
like  a  robin's,  he  is  an  in- 
sect-eater; if  sharp  and  flat, 
opening  very  wide  like  a 
swallow's,  he  is  a  flycatcher. 

Lastly,  note  the  plumage, 
the  general  color,  then  spe- 
cial markings,  such  as  bars 
on  wings  or  tail,  a  ring 
around  the  eye  (Fig.  18),  or 
a  line  over  or  through  the 
eye  (Fig.  19),  white  or  black 
throat  (Fig.  20  or  19), 
speckled  or  striped  breast 
(Fig.  18),  or  any  conspicu- 
ous blotch.  Every  point 
must  be  set  down  the  mo- 
ment you  notice  it.  You 
cannot  trust  your  memory. 

With  these  full  notes,  re- 
turn to  your  study  and  take 
your  manual  to  find  out  his 
name,  or  to  identify. 

Many  persons  think  that 
in  order  to  know  a  bird,  and  especially  to  find 
out  his  name,  one  must  have  him  in  the  hand, 


FIG.  19. 

Black-throated  Green 
Warbler. 


FIG.  20. 
White-throated  Sparrow. 


140  HIS   RELATIONS  WITH  US 

count  his  wing  and  tail  feathers,  and  measure 
his  length.  Excepting  for  exact  scientific  pur- 
poses, this  is  not  at  all  necessary.  Almost  any 
bird  in  America  may  be  perfectly  identified  with- 
out touching  him,  indeed,  while  he  is  in  the 
enjoyment  of 'his  liberty  in  a  tree.  For  birds 
have  marked  external  differences,  which  are 
carefully  set  down  in  the  books. 

The  modern  manuals,  too,  are  usually  fur- 
nished with  a  color  key,  the  use  of  which  is  fully 
explained  in  them.  With  the  help  of  this  you 
will  have  little  trouble  in  naming  your  bird. 

Above  all,  be  exact  in  your  knowledge  and 
do  not  jump  at  conclusions.  If  you  see  a  bird 
on  a  fruit-tree  picking  about  the  blossoms,  do 
not  decide  offhand  that  he  is  spoiling  the  fruit ; 
look  closely  to  see  if  he  is  not,  instead,  clearing 
it  of  worms  that  would  destroy  it  all.  When 
you  notice  a  bird  in  a  strawberry  bed,  do  not 
instantly  conclude  that  he  is  after  strawberries ; 
he  does  n't  care  half  so  much  for  berries  as  he 
does  for  insects,  and  very  often  he  is  engaged  in 
ridding  the  plants  of  pests,  at  the  moment  that 
he  is  scared  off  or  shot  by  a  careless  person,  who 
does  not  wait  to  see  whether  he  is  friend  or  foe. 

Although  patience  and  clear  eyes  alone  will 
open  many  delightful  secrets  of  bird  life,  a  good 
opera  glass  will  do  still  more.  It  will  bring  you 


MEADOWLARK 


HOW  TO  STUDY  HIM  141 

nearer  to  the  bird  without  frightening  him. 
You  can  see  thus  much  better,  not  only  his 
markings,  but  what  he  is  doing.  In  a  word, 
you  can  be  more  sure  of  your  facts. 

In  deciding  upon  the  actions  of  a  bird,  never 
guess  at  anything.  If  you  see  a  pair  very  busy 
about  a  shrub,  you  may  be  sure  they  have  a 
nest  there,  but  do  not  so  record  it  till  you  have 
actually  seen  the  nest.  Even  then  you  should 
not  conclude  at  once  that  it  belongs  to  them ; 
I  have  seen  birds  sit  a  few  moments  in  nests 
which  did  not  belong  to  them  —  as  if  to  try 
them.  You  may  feel  very  sure  what  a  bird 
means  by  an  action,  but  you  should  set  down 
only  what  he  does.  Without  this  care,  your 
records  will  be  worthless. 

Do  not  discourage  yourself  by  trying  to  find 
the  name  of  every  tiny  atom  in  feathers  that  you 
see ;  indeed,  little  birds  flitting  about  the  tree- 
tops  —  mostly  warblers  —  will  be  hard  for  you 
to  identify,  and  almost  impossible  to  watch.  I 
advise  you  to  confine  your  study  at  first  to  the 
larger  and  less  lively  birds,  —  kingbirds,  robins, 
thrushes,  phoebes,  bluebirds,  orioles,  goldfinches, 
and  others,  all  of  which  you  will  find  near  to 
houses  and  easy  to  study.  Do  not  expect  too 
much  at  once,  nor  give  up  in  despair  if  you  can- 
not identify  the  first  bird  you  see. 


142  HIS  RELATIONS   WITH  US 

You  may  be  sure  that  every  hour  you  hon- 
estly give  to  the  study  will  make  it  more  inter- 
esting; every  hird  you  learn  to  know  will  be 
like  a  new  and  delightful  companion. 

You  will  lose  your  desire  to  take  life  or  even 
to  steal  eggs  from  them ;  the  country  will  have 
new  charms  for  you ;  in  fact,  a  person  blessed 
with  a  love  of  the  study  of  birds  or  beasts  or 
insects  possesses  a  lifelong  and  inexhaustible 
source  of  interest  and  happiness. 

In  regard  to  a  manual,  there  are  now  so  many 
to  be  had,  one  hardly  knows  how  to  select.  I 
will  mention  only  two  or  three,  which  have  par- 
ticular points  of  value. 

A  good  book  to  begin  with,  for  residents  of 
New  England,  New  York,  and  the  Eastern 
Middle  States,  is  Professor  Willcox's  "  Land 
Birds  of  New  England  "  (Lee  &  Shepard,  Bos- 
ton. Price  60  cts.,  by  mail). 

Although  this  little  book  treats  of  only 
ninety  birds,  they  are  the  most  common,  and  its 
value  is  its  simplicity,  and  the  ease  with  which 
its  color  key  enables  one  to  identify  the  birds  it 
treats.  It  introduces  a  beginner  to  the  larger 
works  in  a  most  pleasing  way. 

A  good  general  work  for  Eastern  North 
America,  thoroughly  trustworthy  and  not  too 
technical  in  its  use  of  terms,  treating  all  the 


HOW  TO  STUDY  HIM  143 

birds  of  the  locality,  is  Chapman's  "  Handbook 
of  the  Birds  of  Eastern  North  America  "  (Ap- 
pleton,  New  York.  Price  $3.00).  It  has  a 
color  key  and  a  color  chart,  by  which  one  may 
see  what  is  meant  by  colors  named. 

Especially  attractive  to  ladies  and  amateurs, 
for  its  charming  accounts  of  bird  life,  is  Mrs. 
Wright's  "Birdcraft"  (Macmillan,  New  York. 
Price,  $3.00).  It  treats  but  two  hundred  spe- 
cies, but  that  includes  the  birds  usually  seen  in 
the  New  England  and  Northern  Middle  States. 
It  has  a  color  key. 

The  whole  United  States  is  covered  by  Dr. 
Coues's  "  Key  to  North  American  Birds,"  latest 
edition  (Estes  &  Lauriat,  Boston.  Price  $7.50). 
It  is  not  quite  so  easy  for  the  beginner,  but  it 
is  untechnical  in  style,  and  fully  illustrated. 

One  book  deserving  mention  because  of  its 
value  as  an  aid  to  teachers  is  Miss  Merriam's 
"  Birds  of  Village  and  Field  "  (Houghton,  Mif- 
flin  &  Co.,  Boston.  Price  $2.00).  It  is  ex- 
ceptionally rich  in  facts  and  statistics  relating 
to  the  economic  value  of  birds.  It  treats  nearly 
two  hundred  of  the  most  common  birds. 

A  book  intended  for  identification  only  is 
Professor  Apgar's  "  Birds  of  the  United  States  " 
(American  Book  Company,  New  York.  Price 
$2.00).  It  is  the  result  of  his  experience  as 


144  HIS  RELATIONS  WITH  US 

teacher,  and  has  several  new  features  very  help- 
ful to  beginners,  such  as  small  cuts  at  the  bot- 
tom of  pages  to  explain  terms,  thus  showing 
exactly  what  is  meant,  for  example,  by  "  wing 
bars  "  or  "  rounded  tail."  It  also  gives  hints 
about  the  usual  locality  of  a  bird,  whether  creep- 
ing over  a  tree  trunk,  on  the  wing,  or  elsewhere. 
It  takes  particular  note  of  size,  having  one  sec- 
tion for  birds  about  the  size  of  an  English  spar- 
row, and  so  on.  The  pronunciation  of  the  Latin 
names  is  carefully  indicated.  There  are  several 
chapters  giving  descriptions  of  the  external  parts 
of  a  bird,  and  there  is  a  glossary  of  scientific 
terms. 

The  following  list  of  points  to  observe  in 
watching  birds  has  been  used  to  advantage  by 
classes  in  bird  study.  A  little  familiarity  with 
this  will  help  one  to  remember  what  to  look  for. 

A  similar,  but  fuller  and  more  elaborate,  list 
has  been  prepared,  and  bound  up  in  tablets,  to 
use  in  the  field.  It  is  for  sale  by  Miss  J.  A. 
Clark,  1322  Twelfth  Street,  N.  W.,  Washing- 
ton, D.  C. 


POINTS  TO  OBSERVE 

1.  Locality  —  tree  :  bush  :  ground. 

2.  Size  —  compared  to  robin  :  English  sparrow. 

3.  Form  —  long  :  short :  slender  :  plump. 

4.  Beak  —  high  :    stout :   wide :    hooked  :    long :    lobes : 

drawn  down. 

5.  Tail  —  length  :  shape  at  end. 

6.  Legs  —  long  :  short :  scales. 

7.  Toes  —  webbed  :  how  turned  :  hind  claw  long. 

8.  Color  —  bright :  striking  :  dull :  plain. 

9.  Markings  —  on  head  :  breast :  wing  :  tail :  back. 

10.  Manners  —  walk  :  hop  :  quiet :  active  :  noisy  :  silent. 

11.  Habits  —  eating   seeds  :       berries  :       insects :      from 

ground  :  tree  trunk  :  leaves. 

12.  Song  —  long  :  short :  continuous  :  broken. 

13.  Flight  —  direct:  undulating:  fluttering:  labored. 

14.  Nest  —  where  placed  :  shape  :  materials  :  eggs. 

15.  Young  —  plumage :  behavior. 


INDEX 


AFFECTIONS,  73-82. 

Air-sacs,  92,94. 

Arrival  in  spring,  3,  4. 

Attraction  and  protection  of  birds,  131- 

135. 

Audubon,  John  James,  60. 
Auks,  110. 

Beak,  95-97. 
Blackbird,  crow,  72. 
?  Blackbirds,  3,  126,  129. 
Bluebird,  arrival,  3 ;   getting  food   for 

young,  17  ;  teaching  young  to  fly,  37, 

38  ;  feeding,  50. 
Bobolink,  nest  of,  9  ;  one  of    the  first 

birds  to  stop  singing  in  summer,  47 ; 

the  fall  migration,  61,  62. 
Bob-white  (quail),  44,  59. 
Body,  shape  of,  91. 
Bolles,   Frank,   his  pet  owl,   101,  116; 

his  story  of  a  heron,  103,  104. 
Bones,  92,  94. 

Books  about  birds,  142-144. 
Brooding,  13-16. 
Buzzard,  turkey,  50,  51. 

Canary,  20,  57, 81. 

Cardinal,  69,  132. 

Catbird,  food  of,  49,  126;  jerking  the 

tail,  113. 

v  Cedar-bird,  feeding  young,  19 ;  story  of 
affection  for  young,  78 ;  usefulness  to 
man,  126,  129. 

Chewink,  76,  77. 

Chickadee,  defending  eggs,  11,  12;  get- 
ting food  for  young,  18  ;  as  an  eater 


of  insects'  eggs,  68, 126 ;  affection  for 
young,  78. 

Color  in  feathers,  120.    See  Plumage. 

Cormorant,  94. 

Crop,  93. 

Crossbill,  97. 

Crow,  punishing  a  young  one,  37  ;  sleep- 
ing in  flocks,  59,  60  ;  story  of  an  affec- 
tionate, 80 ;  usefulness  to  man,  126. 

Down,  the  first    plumage,  15,  21,  22, 

115. 
Ducks,  97,  115. 

Ears,  102-104. 

Eggs,  beauty  of,  11 ;  the  mother's  care, 

11,  12 ;  incubation  and  hatching   of, 

13-15. 
Eyes,  100-102. 

Feather  tracts,  22,  23. 

Feathers,  their  first  appearance  on  the 

young  bird,  22 ;  of  the  wing,  109-111; 

of  the  tail,  112,  113  ;  the  various  kinds 

of,  114,  115 ;  expression  of  emotions 

by,  116;  the  birds'  care  of  the,  116: 

117.    See  Plumage. 
Feet,  92,  105-108. 
Fish,  birds  and  dead,  86,  87. 
r Flicker,  method  of  feeding  young,  18 ; 

food  of,  85,  127  ;  color  markings,  121. 
Flying,  93. 
Food,  48-55;  in  winter,  67-69,  134;  in 

its  relation  to  the  welfare  of  man, 

125-130. 
Frigate-bird,  110. 


148 


IXDEX 


Geese,  98,  99. 


Goldfinch,  American,  14  ;  story  of  canary 
*     and,  20;  change  of  color,  26;   food, 

51 ;  flocking,  71. 
Goldfinch,  European,  79. 
Grouse,  58,  59,  110. 
Grouse,  ruffed,  111. 
Gullet,  93. 
Gulls,  101. 

x,/Hawks,  food  of,  52,  53, 126,  127 ;  asleep, 
59  ;  beaks  of,  97  ;  eyesight  of,  IjJi ; 
feet  of,  106. 

Heligoland,  101. 

Herons,  food  of,  53,  127 ;  bills  of,  97 ; 
story  of  the  hearing  of  a  heron,  103, 
104 ;  usefulness  to  man,  127. 
,,  Hummingbird,  ruby-throated,  absence 
of  male  from  nest,  16;  method  of 
feeding  young,  18. 

Hummingbirds,  15,  98. 

Identification,  137-141. 
Indigo-bird,  47. 
Instinct,  83. 
Intelligence,  83-87. 

Japan,  131. 

,  Jay,  blue,  learning  to  fly,  31,  32 ;  storing 
food,  54 ;  story  of  a  mischievous,  55, 
56  ;  usefulness  to  man,  126. 

Kindness  of  birds  to  each  other,  74-77. 
'  Kingbird,  14,  129. 
Kingfisher,  21,  115. 

Language,  43-47. 
Legs,  92,  105,  107,  108. 

Meadowlark,  45,  119, 121. 
Migration,  61-68. 
Mockingbird,  45. 
Moulting,  25,  26,  118. 

Neck,  92. 

Nests,  situations  of,  9 ;  materials  of,  9, 

10;    building    of,    10;    seldom    used 

more  than  once,  10, 11. 


Nighthawk,  107. 
Norway,  131. 
Nuthatches,  18,  96,  98. 

Observation,  137-141, 145. 

Oil,  117. 

Oriole,  nest  of,  9,  95 ;  getting  food  fo* 

young,  18  ;  teaching  young  to  fly,  33, 

34 ;  food  of,  50  ;  affection  for  young, 

78 ;  usefulness  to  man,  129. 
Ostrich,  24. 

Ostrich,  South  American,  24. 
Owl,  barred,  101. 
Owls,  35 ;  food  of,  52,  53,  127  ;  ears  of, 

103  ;  feet  of,.  106  ;  usefulness  to  man, 

126,  127. 

Penguin,  72. 

Petrel,  110. 

Pewee,  wood,  47. 

Phoebe,  35.          ^ 

Pigeons,  79,  80. 

Plumage,  the  nestling,  22,  2S;  colora- 
tion of,  23,  24,  27,  28  ;  moulting,  25, 
26,  118;  change  of  color  without 
moulting,  26,  27,  118-120;  protective 
coloration  of,  120,  121 ;  recognition 
marks  in,  121,  122. 

Protection  and  attraction  of  birds,  131- 
135. 

Quail  (bob-white),  44,  59. 

Redstart,  American,  14. 

Regurgitation,  18,  19. 

Rhea,  24. 

Robin,  American,  arrival,  3  ;  10,  15,  17, 
18,  21  ;  plumage  of  young,  23  ;  34 ; 
teaching  young  to  bathe,  38,  39 ;  notes 
of,  44,  45;  food  of,  49,  126,  127  ;  roost- 
ing in  flocks,  60  ;  devotion  to  younp. 
78 ;  story  of  the  intelligence  of  a,  84 ; 
102;  usefulness  to  man,  126,  127,  l-'9 

Sapsucker,  85 ;  tail  of ,  113. 
Shrikes,  126. 
Sleeping,  57-60. 
Song,  14,  44-47. 
Sparrow,  chipping,  54. 


INDEX 


149 


Sparrow,  English,  learning  canary's 
song,  46;  young  fed  by  a  wren,  81, 
82  ;  harmfulness  of,  126, 130,  132. 

Sparrow,  song,  arrival,  3 ;  nest,  9  ;  u> 
dividuality  in  songs,  45 ;  47. 

Sparrow,  tree,  58,  128. 

Sparrow,  white-throated,  54. 

Sparrows,  84,  97. 

Stomach,  93. 

Swallow,  bank,  96. 

Swallow,  barn,  71,  96. 

Swallow,  eave,  71. 

Swallows,  food  of,  17,  35,  50 ;  flocking, 
62, 71 ;  story  of  young,  75  ;  story  show- 
ing intelligence,  85  ;  wings  of,  110. 

Swift,  chimney,  sleeping,  59,  60  ;  devo- 
tion to  young,  78  ;  tail  of,  113. 

Tail,  112,  113. 
Tanager,  scarlet,  79. 
Thrasher,  113. 
Thrush,  wood,  133. 
Tongue,  97,  98. 

Usefulness  of  birds  to  man,  125-130. 

Veery,  47. 

Vireo,  red-eyed,  47. 


Warbler,  black  and  white,  121. 

Warbler,  yellow,  50. 

Warblers,  62,  97. 

Water,  birds  in,  94;  for  drinking  and 

bathing,  133,  134. 
Whip-poor-will,  107, 121. 
Wings,  109-112. 
Winter,  birds  in,  66-69. 
Woodcock,  beak  of,  96 ;  whistling  sound 

of  wings,  111. 
Woodpecker,  downy,  50. 
Woodpecker,  red-headed,  85. 
Woodpecker,  yellow-bellied,  85. 
Woodpeckers,   18,   21 ;  teaching  young 

to    feed  itself,  35,  36;    food  of,  50; 

storing  food,  54,  55;  sleeping,  59;  85, 

86 ;  beaks  of,  95  ;  tongues  of,  98 ;  103; 

feet  of,  106 ;  tails  of,  113. 
Wren,  house,  81,  82. 

Young  birds,  hatching  of,  13-15 ;  feed- 
ing of,  16-20;  first  plumage  of,  21- 
23  ;  learning  to  fly ,29-34,  37-39  ;  the 
mother's  anxiety  about,  30-32 ;  learn- 
ing to  feed  themselves,  34-36,  39; 
learning  to  sing,  36  ;  after  leaving  the 
nest,  70-73. 


Job Da«e 


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